Things don't always turn out that way
by MiaCharlize
Summary: Sometimes things just don't continue the way you expect them to. CS.
1. Chapter 1

Sara

It had all started out rather playful between the two of us, a constant push and pull game that even looked like a light sort of friendship at times. Then we would tear each other down again with bitchy remarks, insults or simple death glares. She would drop a mean comment and I would bitch back. Until one day I didn't.

We were about to head out, standing in the locker when she picked on me for something she didn't even know about me, like she had done many times before. I wanted to respond, say something smart in return but instead I simply surprised her - and myself - by pressing my lips to hers.

I think I just wanted to see how she would react or maybe I didn't think at all.

She tasted so good and then she even responded to the kiss, probably just to gain control of the situation, to demonstrate she was in charge, but who was I to complain?

Just when I thought I was about to lose my mind she forced me back to reality by breaking the kiss and slapping me hard across the cheek. Then she turned and left me standing in the locker, admiring her sexy ass. Stupid me, that was all I could do.

That was a few month ago and, call me crazy, but I just had to do it again.

After shifts, during shifts, in the locker, the ladies' room, hell, even in her office! She would slap me every time but never refuse me, she always returned my kisses. Guess I'm a little masochistic but I really didn't care about my red cheeks, or the pathetic feeling of joy I got from these little moments.

I still don't know how it happened - we don't really discuss things - but one day it went further than passionate lip-lock. She had offered me a ride home after shift, when my car had broken down and when I was about to exit the car she pulled me back into a fierce kiss until we were ripping each others clothes off and made out in the car like teenagers.

That was the first of many times. She'd call whenever she was pissed off at something, a case upset her or she was just generally moody and I'd come over and let her use me as her anti-aggression-fuck or whatever you might call it. And when I was down or simply needed to let off some steam, she'd be there to literally fuck all this shit out of my brain.

But we never talked about it, always acted as if none of it ever happened because it wasn't really us. Off work we were two different people who just happened to share the same fantasies. And I never minded, until today.

Something happened, I have no idea what. I'm lying in her bed, my body still sweaty and sore from the happenings of the last hour, and I'm crying.

I curse myself for that but I can't help it. I had looked into her eyes and everything came rushing down on me.

Maybe it's her, or me, or the 17 year old girl, sprawled naked on the motel-bed, covered with bruises, blood and sperm. Something inside me cracked and I rolled onto my side and started crying.

And now I can't stop. I don't want her to see me like this. I feel ashamed for showing my weakness in front of her. It's awkward and uncomfortable. I want to run away but I'm shaking so badly I can't move.


	2. Chapter 2

Catherine

She's crying; her shoulders are shaking violently and I have absolutely no idea what the hell just transpired. I never indended for this to happen, but my heart is breaking with her sobs.

I don't really know how to react. My first instinct is to hold her and make her pain go away, but this is Sara. I doubt that I'm the person she wants to comfort her, hell, sometimes I think she doesn't want anyone to comfort her.

Normally this is the point where she collects her bearings and goes home, we never spend the whole night together - or morning for that matter - it's some kind of unspoken agreement between us, unspoken, like everything between us.

This time however, I don't want her to go. She shouldn't be on her own in the state she's obviously in. Careful, as not to disturb her privacy, I reach over to her. Stupid thinking actually, considering we just had sex.

"Sara" I whisper and it's strange to hear my own voice echoing through the silence of the room. She stiffens under my touch and pulls away.

"Hey, baby what's wrong with you?" I'm not sure what else to say. My words are mostly born out of motherly instinct. I hope the concern is audible through the crack of my hoarse voice. She doesn't talk but covers her face in a gesture of shame, or so I guess.

"Hey, it's all right" I try to assure her as I pull her closer, despites her uncertain struggles to back away.

I try to soothe her by running my hand up and down her arm and hold her tightly until she stops fighting the closeness and starts to relax. This has never happened before and her behaviour really has me worried. I wonder what is going in her mind.

I don't really expect her to open up to me but I hope by holding her I can help somehow. Even if I had imagined today to be a little different, right now I don't mind having her in my arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Sara

I don't know what to say, I feel like I should be saying something because the silence is clouding the room with all its awkwardness.

I'm wondering why Catherine doesn't try harder to make me talk, it's just not like her to leave things unsaid. Then again, it's not like we have ever talked about anything deeply personal.

I'm surprised she's still here with me - okay, so where would she go? It's her house after all, but she's still _here_, in bed, holding me.

She never held me like that after our little encounters - but then I've never just broken down crying. Normally either she dresses and leaves, or I do, depending on whose place we've been at.

But now, even if I wanted to, I couldn't go since she is pressing me so tightly against her I can hardly breathe. That combined with the soft murmuring into my ear leayes my knees so weak I doubt I could stand on my own legs anyways.

Minutes pass and my head is in a turmoil of thoughts that I can't - nor want to- make sense of.

I have so many images mixing up that I can't decide whether to be scared or just confused.

I want to deciffer them, pull them apart for analysis, but there are just too many.

I close my eyes instead. Catherine is still holding me and somehow her warmth against my back makes the images fade to the back. They are still there, they always are, but lying embraced in gentle arms makes them feel less scary.

My past, today, my fears…they matter less with every gentle word uttered into my ear.

Now she matters. Me and her. This starts to frighten me even more.

This -me and her- has always been about sex, no, it has been about release. Releasing tension, frustration. I start regretting the call in the morning. I haven't been angry, I didn't need an outlet for my agressions. I was closer to being depressed, I should have opted for beer instead. But here I am, ruining whatever sort of relationship we've formed. All because I'm an emotional basketcase.

She's not angry, though. Doesen't seem to mind my breakdown, or maybe she's just too polite to say anything. It's most likely the mother in her who takes charge of the situation, being all gentle and caring.

Or maybe, dare I say, she's feeling it too. The changes taking place between us. Her touches feel different, her voice is so much softer, making evrything inside of me tighten.

Don't. Don't do this, Sara. Don't you fall in love with her.

I tense. Images fall into place. This can't be. It shouldn't be making as much sense as it seems to do. All the fighting, the passion, the not-getting-along. All my fears of being too close to her, when being close feels so secure. The more I try to push these thoughts away the more persistant they become.

I've been a complete fool all these months, years actually. I cannot pin-point the moment it started but in retroprospect it suddenly forms a clear picture: I'm in love with her.

Now, if only I could breathe.


	4. Chapter 4

Catherine

She's stiffening again, interupting my silent contemplation.

Her sobs have subsided by now. I should release my grip on her but I'm finding myself reluctant to do so.

"I should go" her voice cracks as she speaks up. "Are you sure?" I ask before my brain gets the chance to catch up with my mouth. I'm not really sure what to do but whatever it was that had her bothered to the point of breaking down in front of me couldn't possibly be solved with a hug and a bout of crying.

I never would have thought I'd care so much for the things going on inside of her head, yet here I am, worrying.

She's always been independent, never one to let people close. She'd deal with her problems on her own, let it all out while literally fucking it all away. Suddenly I realize how much I have used her. It doesen't matter that she has done the same with me, it sure doesn't make my guilt fade away when I see the hurt behind her red rimmed eyes.

She looks lost, unsure and confused. Just as I'm about to aks her again she finds her voice again.

"I'm sorry" she starts in a whisper. I'm about to hush her but she continues.

"I shouldn't have bothered you with this, I should go, I mean usually I'm about gone by now so…" She's rambling on already moving to sit up. It doesn't take me long to reach out and pull her back towards me, forcing her to look into my eyes. Gently I begin stroking her flushed cheeks, needing her to not only listen but understand as I start speaking to her.

"Sara, I wouldn't feel comfortable knowing you're going home in your current condition. You shouldn't even be driving." I put on what I hope is a reassuring smile. It must be working as she smiles back weakly. I hear a mumbled "thanks" before she looks down then ever so quietly she adds "I didn't really expect you to care"

I have no idea how to answer. Up until a few minutes ago I woulnd't have expected myself to care either. But telling her that would probably just hurt her so I simply tell her that I do care.

It surprises me that she doen't resist as I once again draw her into me, my hands resting on her bare back. Instead she burries her head further into my shoulder, breathing deeply as she tries to relax.

"Can I stay a while?" she mumbles against my collar bone, sounding incredibly fragile. Kissing the top of her head I tighten my hold

"As long as you want."

I sigh. As long as you want…


	5. Chapter 5

Sara

"As long as you want"

Her words are echoing through my mind. I wonder why she said them. Does she mean it? Is she just trying to calm me? Does she regret the offer already?

I don't care, I'm too tired to care. The crying, the overthinking, work, not to mention having sex with Catherine…I'm so close to sleep I might as well just close my eyes and savour the warmth of another body. She gives me comfort, makes me feel safe.

Safe enough to let her see me sleep, to me that is even more intimate than sex.

It requires a great deal of trust. Which surprisingly I feel with her.

It's amazing how little it takes for me to trust this woman, so much that whereas I'd usually be running scared, now I'm lying in her arms,revelling in her softness as I slowly feel myself drift off.


	6. Chapter 6

Catherine

I watch her sleep. The steady rise and fall of her chest provides me with a strange sense of comfort.

Her body, draped over me, her head resting on top of my chest, I find it hard to breathe. I don't care, seeing her so peaceful after that meltdown makes it impossible for me to disturb her.

My arms wrap themselves protectively around her back, cradling her to me in a fashion much like I do with Lindsay when she's having a nightmare.

I smile. Her eyes are slightly swollen, her cheeks coloured in a soft shade of red. Trousled hair frames her otherwise pale face with drakness. Carefully I brush it away to tug it behind her small ear. Why have I never seen how beautiful this is?

Sure, I've noticed that she's easy on the eyes, I knew she was attractive, yet I choose to overlook how truly amazing this woman can be.

It makes me feel guilty. I've never recognized her, appreciated her the way she deserved. Instead I used her, pushed her, hurt her both with my actions and words. I decide right here and now that this has to change.

I make a promise to myself to start over with her. I will make an effort to get to know her, not that stoic woman she presents herself as, but the sensitive, fragile person she is underneath.

I will make it my personal obligation to ensure that Sara will not be hurt again.

Satisfied with my decision I close my eyes and gingerly comb my fingers through her hair, listening to her regular breathing until I too fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Sara

I awake from a dreamless sleep and stretch before I reluctantly open my eyes . My head feels sore and my sheets don't feel like my sheets. This is not my bed. Sitting up I recognize it as Catherine's and, having that established, memories of last night -morning- come flooding back.

That case - the girl in the motel, I called Catherine when I didn't feel like sitting alone at home. I came over, -came- and broke down crying in front of Catherine, who actually seemed to care - my head is spinning even more by now.

I let myself fall back onto the bed - the empty bed, guess she left me here to gather my bearings and hurry my way out. I start scanning the room for my clothes when the smell of fresh coffee enters my nose.

In the doorway stands Catherine looking as if she is contemplating whether to enter the room or remain standing where she is.

"Hey" she smiles. She looks gorgeous in her plain black t-shirt and faded jeans. With her hair pulled back loosely and the lack of make-up she appears a lot more natural and her features seem softer than usual. She's beautiful.

And I am naked. I clutch the sheets closer to my chest.

"Felling better?" she asks sounding almost concerned. I nod since I don't know what to say. It's strange how I've had sex with this woman so many times but never really talked to her. The most work unrelated coversations go at best as far as "say hello to Lindsay" or "have a nice day off".

My eyes fall upon my twitching hands. I hope she isn't trying for an explanation for my behaviour this morning, I can't make sense of it myself.

"I made coffee," she offers me a mug as she approches me, obviously sensing my unease.

She places it on the nightstand beside me and puts a hand atop mine.

"I…I don't really know what to say" I admit. Looking up I see her blinking. She does that when she's searching for words, I take it that means I'm not the only one finding this awkward.

She pulls back to hand me the coffeecup which I accept gladly. Slowly I sip the bitter drink in hopes of avoiding having to talk to her.

Fortunatly for me she starts the talking.

"Look," she speaks into the direction of her own hands resting in her lap "I gotta go and pick up Lindsay from school. I promised to take her to the movie's today but I think we should talk, so maybe you want to come over before shift starts. I'll drop her off at my sister's around seven and well…" she trails off as she realizes she is rambling.

"Okay." That's about all I can manage as an answer.

She regards me for a moment with that unreadible scrutinizing look of her causing me to remember that I'm still naked and sitting in Catherine's bed for that matter.

"I really gotta go now, I'm sorry," she moves to raise up "just pull the door shut when you leave, okay? Oh, and feel free to take a shower or whatever…" She shrugs and moves towards the door. "See you later?" she throws over her shoulder before she is gone. After I hear the front door slam shut I fall back onto the mattress with a sigh.

What have I gotten myself into?


	8. Chapter 8

Catherine

The ride to Lindsay's school seems shorter than usual. My thoughts keep drifting back to this morning's events.

Before I notice I have reached the school. It doesn't take long for me to spot Lindsay standing on the sidewalk surrounded by her friends. She sees me and waves the group goodbye before heading off towards the car. She jumps in quickly probably hoping for me to take of just as hurriedly, after all there comes the age where being picked up by your Mom is just "way uncool".

Appearently she is in a good mood as she starts retelling her day without me having to ask. Trying to keep track on her stories is harder than one might think and I catch myself drifting off into my own thoughts every now and then. It makes me feel guilty that I'm not fully focused on her but I ease my concious with the fact that I can at least recall some of the things she says.

"So, which movie are we gonna see?" I ask as we pull up in front of her favourite pizza place - it's her day after all.

Lindsay starts to practically bombard me with every film that she has heard of lately and I'm glad that I can convince her to see one that sounds decent.

Actually, the movie is rather boring, though judging by Lindsay's giggling she is enjoying herself so at least it serves its purpose.

During the not so funny movie I use the time to think back to Sara. Our little encounter this morning is affecting me more than I care to admit.

Thinking about our upcoming _talk _is giving me a nervous tingle. Whatever its outcome will be, things will not continue the way they have for the past months.

The prospect of ending our affair, if you can even call it that, doesn't sound very appealing to me. On the other hand, I promised not to use her anymore, if that means a clean cut, I will have to make that sacrifice. Her friendship might be worth it.

Suddenly a thought crosses my mind. What if there are more than these two options? What if I decide to let this thing we have blossom into something more?

I try to imagine us going out on dates, talking, staying in bed after sex. I smile. The memory of her body so close to mine, the innocent touches, her emotional bareness…I shiver at the intesity of those memories. Maybe I should just give it a try.

"Mom" Lindsay's voice brings me back to the present. I look up to see the credits roll over the big screen. Pushing back all thoughts of Sara I shift my attention to my daughter.

"Let's go, I'm up for some ice cream." I tell her as we make our way out of the theatre. I really enjoy spending time with her, outings like this have become a rare occasion between me pulling too much overtime and her sporting an attitude. I'm glad for these moments of peace with her.

"Mom? Did you even listen to me?" Here we go again. I apologize and ask her to repeat herself whereupon she rolls her eyes at me.

She's definitely coming after me, though I haven't figured out yet whether that's a good thing or bad. At least it shows she hasn't completely estranged herself from me.

My guilty conscience leads us to a trip through the mall before we head back home. This time I make sure to do a much better job of listening to my little girl as she tries time and time again to convince me of the sheer importance of me buying her that new Ashlee Simpson album.

Smiling I put my arm around her shoulder and answer her immidiate protest with a smug grin, "You want me to fulfill my mommy duties, you'll have to play the daughter part" I grin triumphantly as she lets me keep my arm in its current position.


	9. Chapter 9

Sara

The hot water is pouring down on me, washing away her smell. I need to clear my head and every reminder of her is just going to cloud my mind.

I'm glad I refused the offer to shower at her place. My own bathroom feels a lot more comfortable than hers would. As I dry off I glance into the mirror, studying my reflection.

There have been many times I had to fight the urge to slam my fist into it. Today I'm not sure. Acting all foolish in front of Catherine certainly makes me feel stupid, as does having this silly crush on her -and I refuse to think it's anything but a crush. It has to be, though if I'm honest with myself I know that it's not.

Shaking my head I tear my gaze away from the mirror and walk into my bedroom.

I can't let this happen. I've never wanted to commit myself to someone who can make me feel so vulnerable and out of control. Now, I'm knee deep into this, if not further. I feel so devoted to her I doubt I'll ever stop falling for her. That scares the shit out of me. Especially since I have absolutely no idea how she feels about the whole issue.

I don't know what's bothering me more, the prospect of making a complete ass of myself by falling for Catherine or the possibility that she might return those feelings. Yeah right, as if she'd ever.

Well, at least she's willing to talk. I'm well aware that it is no indication our relationship will take a turn for the better, but she could have just thrown me out and put an end to it completely. So I'm taking it as a positive sign. Listen to me. I'm turning into an optimist.

While we're at it, let's just follow this path for a minute. I try to picture it: Catherine and me... we're like fire and ice. Opposites attract -so much we have worked out- but do they also fit? Hardly…

All this time she has used me -granted, I started it, gave her permission, enjoyed it. Still, I doubt she'd give up men alltogether, and if there ever _was_ a serious thing to be between us, I'd need to know it's exclusive.

I also don't think she'd jeopardize her position for me, while our sexual encounters have never mingled with our working relationship, involving feelings certainly would and that would mean it couldn't be kept a secret any longer.

Oh, and then there's her daughter. Not to say I don't like the girl, she's quite a smart one, but I'm not really sure how she would take it if I were her mother's girlfriend. Wait, girlfriend? Where did that come from? I'd rather not dwell on that.

Anyway, I don't know if Lindsay even knows that Catherine is not as straight as she lets on…oh well, what was I thinking? Me and Catherine will never happen. I can only hope that our _talk_ will at the very least enable a friendship between us, I'm not sure I want to lose her forever, not that I ever _had _her.

The rest of the afternoon has me cleaning my insicnificantly littered apartment, checking my e-mails several times -to no avail- and generally pacing my small living area. That is until I start wondering what I should wear. I've never been much into fashion, though I do pay attention to looking decent at most times.

I helplessly search through my closet. I know I shouldn't put too much effort into this, it's not like this is going to be a date, it's not as if Catherine would _care_.

I finally decide on simple jeans and a tank as not to give the impression I'm dressing up for her, all the way cursing myself for making things so complicated.

At a little after seven I pick up my things and leave in the direction of Catherine's house.

I have no idea where that talk might lead, but hey-it's just Catherine, she isn't likely to bite my head off.

It's just Catherine…


	10. Chapter 10

Catherine 

The hundredth glare at my wristwatch tells me it is a quarter past seven. I stroll along the hall from bedroom to livingroom, scolding myself for being nervous. It's not like I have a date coming up or anything, it's just Sara dropping by so we can talk.

I laugh at the irony of me and Sara talking, civilly, not work related. Then I frown. It shouldn't be such an uncommon occurance, especially not consindering our other not work related activities.

It's just Sara I remind myself, a collegue, friend-in a very twisted way- and my, what, fuck-buddy? That sounds wrong. It hasn't before but that's most likely because I never really tried to lable what she is to me. But what other term would describe what we are? I can't think of any.

The shrill ringing of the door bell startles me out of my musings. Ok, here we go.

Taking a deep breath I open the door to reveal a very pale looking Sara shuffling around on my front porch.

"Hey" I greet her as I step back to allow her entrance. "Hey" she plainly replies.

"Go, have a seat." I point her to the couch. "You want a drink? Coffe, water, juice…?"

Great, start this coversation with a ramble.

She briefly looks up before replying "no, thanks"

Ok, Willows, get it together. Just tell her how you feel, that you care, that maybe you can come out of this as friends.

"I'm sorry" she states before I get the chance to find an appropriate conversation-starter.

"Ok, may I ask what for?" it's stupid, really. I'm the one in need to agologize.

She seems taken aback but quickly gathers her thoughts.

"Let me just say this, ok? I just need to get this all out without interruption." She says and I nod in agreement. It'll give me more time to formulate my own matters.

"Thanks." Her hands are rubbing down her jeans and I can practically see her mapping out her thoughts mentally.

"I'm sorry", she repeats "I shouldn't have kissed you back there, I shouldn't have done it the first time and definitely not any of the other times."

I begin to protest but am stopped by her hand "No interruption, remember?" Sure. "I don't know what possessed me to kiss you, I guess I was just angry, I wanted you to shut the fuck up," we both grin at that. "I think I just wanted to shock you, I never intended for it to progress into a full blown affair."

I smile at her use of the same word I came up with earlier.

"Anyways, that's not all I need to apologize for. I had no right to bother you this morning. I should have left, I'm sorry I didn't. Whatever happened back then it wasn't meant to be. I'm not good at this relationship stuff, I'm not good at dealing with emotions. I was confused and lonely and I shouldn't have used you to act out on it."

Although I'm sensing there is more she has to say I interrupt her.

"Sara, before you continue. I was at no point complaining, remember? There's no need for you to be sorry. I'm the one who slapped you after that first kiss, well after the first several kisses. I'm sorry for that. I…"

"It doensn't matter, Catherine. I startet it…"

This is so not how I pictured this conversation.

"Sara, stop it." I say in a raised voice. That certainly got her.

"We were both not acting entirely exemplarily. It's ok, we both apologized, let's drop it."

Now, on with the real issue. "I think we need to talk about what's happening now."

"Oh, ok." Very eloquent, Sara. Guess this jumbles up your precalculation of this little talk.

"See, I was hoping that we could take a step back, talk about where we stand. See, when you had that breakdown this morning, I….I don't know, something changed there, Sara."

She looks confused so I try to explain myself to her.

"I held you Sara, and I saw a side of you that I always knew existet somewhere but I have never been truly aware of. I realized that I've hurt you. And I want to make up for it. As your friend. You don't have to tell me all your dark secrets, its not what I'm asking of you. I just want you to know that I'm here in case you want to tell me."

We sit in silence for a while, both taking in the meaning of my words. She's awfully quit, contemplating whatever it is running through her head. It's driving me crazy that I can't read her mind now, drives me to the point where I just have to get a reaction from her.

"It's your turn to speak, you know" I prompt.

"Ok." Ok? That's all she has to say? "Ok, what?"

"I,.. the friends-thing, I think that would be a good idea." "You do?" Somehow her stance isn't quite convincing.

"So, this _other_ thing is over?" There's something in the way she pronounces the _other_, I can't detect whether it's relief or regret.

"It doesn't work that way, Sara," I reason, "We can't be friends if we keep using each other, for whatever purpose." Her head moves in the slightest hint of a nod.

"I care about you, Sara, I haven't done a grat job of showing you but this morning I realized that I really do. I don't want to ruin our relationship completely." Hence I don't mention my previous idea of being _more _than friends. Maybe, one day. But now seems far too soon.

An uncomfortable quiet stretches over us as I'm finished with my little speech, not knowing what else to say on the matter. Obviously she doesn't feel the need to add anything either, once again pushing on my patience with her silence.

I study her, partly annoyed and partly fascinated. She's so lost in her own world I doubt she's even aware I'm still in the room. To gain her attention I carefully touch her arm. Her head snaps up sharply. Our eyes meet and we just look at each other. Narrowing my gaze, I try unsuccessfully to read her. Her dark brown pools are soft, they sparkle with intrigue. I release a breath I wasn't aware I've been holding as her lips curl into an ever so tiny smile.

"Thanks," she plays with the hem of her top "for trying not to ruin this. I'd miss you." Her confession is barely audible but makes an impression nevertheless . I don't know what to make of this feeling, stirring my isides. She'd miss me? What the hell does that mean?

"I should go, we have to get ready for work." By the time she finished her sentence she's already standing, heading for the door.

I follow her out and lean against the doorframe as she stands shiftig the weight from one foot to the other, seemingly searching for words.

"I'll see you at work" I offer and she smiles in return.

"Bye" I lean forward and peck her on the cheek - it's what friends do after all.

"Take caer" I tell her as I resist the urge to pull her into a hug.

She doesn't turn as she walks towards her car.

Closing the door I sigh. This didn't go as I thought it would, but it went considerably well, or did it?


	11. Chapter 11

Sara

It's been a little over three weeks since the talk that changed our relationship and so far the friendship-solution works just fine, at least it's going better than i thought it would considering the circumstances.

At first I was highly sceptical about the idea of me and Catherine being friends.

Originally I had intended to convince her to further develop the sexual relationship we've shared since the prospect of losing it had had my stomach in knots. Her saying she didn't want that felt like a slap in the face. I immediately regretted the way I just ran out on her after she suggested it but I couldn't make myself return.

The drive home I spend beating myself up over my own stupidity.

I had considered going back in but then reasoned with myself that maybe she could have been right. Using each other in an unemotional "just sex" agreement would not have brought us closer. And the emptiness inside of me would have returned after every roll in the hay, just as it had done before.

Therefore I concluded that a friendship should at least be worth a try. After all she confessed to me that she _cared_ for me, meaning her offer was genuine and there was a chance for it to work out.

In the end it turned out that it had been a good idea indeed.

We haven't been spending that much time together in the last couple of weeks, just breakfast every now and then, but the foundation has been layed. Even the guys have noticed that we're getting along much better these days. We still butt heads -that's just the way we are- but when there are disagreements we actually take the time to talk about them instead of going off at each other and then going down on each other.

Of course, being closer to her and not being able to touch her, intimately, is a difficult task. I miss the physical connection, I miss kissing her in the locker, kissing her in the lab, kissing her in her bed…but when I consider what I've gotten in return I'm almost okay with that sacrifice.

Despite myself I have started talking to her openly over the last few weeks, not just small-talk, but telling her personal things about me.

I haven't touched upon such dark matters as my abusive past or my general _me_ issues, but I feel like I've made a good start by sharing anecdotes about my past life at school, my previous employments and my life outside CSI -not that there is much to tell.

Catherine has opened up to me as well. I've heard many stories about what her life was like, growing up. She also told me about Sam Braun being her father and how much their complicated situation affects her. Mostly though she's talking about Lindsay.

To my surprise -and satisfaction- our relationship has rapidly progressed into something I feel really comfortable with.

There was an occasional awkwardness between us at first, there still is at times, still I can't help being amazed at the easy and smooth transition our relationship has gone through.

There is just one slight problem left to be resolved: My heart just won't stop beating erratically whenever she is near me.

The whole caring side of Catherine has made me fall for her even harder. I hate it. I'm afraid that my irrational feelings are going to come between us and destroy the wonderful friendship we have developed and Catherine means too much to me for that to happen.

That's why I'm trying to fight it, wishing I had never become aware of it in the first place. It seems impossible though. Every time I pass her, every time she touches my arm, my shoulder, my leg, every time she hugs me-and she does that a lot- every goddamned time she smiles at me my heartbeat doubles and my insides stir.

I have no idea how to get it under control.


	12. Chapter 12

Catherine

"Shit"

No hit in any of our databases. No other leads than one goddamned gray hair and now even that one vanished as there is absolutely nothing to compare it to. Today just keeps getting worse.

I need to get laid. Or drunk. Or both. I groan in frustration and move through the halls of the lab without an actual direction.

My stroll is interrupted when I run into a body. What the f…"Sorry." I look up into dark brown eyes. Just who I needed to see.

Sara's got a hand on my arm to steady me. What would I give to just grab her along now, take her in the locker room, force her donw to her knes to work that talented little tounge of hers…

"You alright, Catherine?" Hell, no!

"Yeah, sorry," I mutter, "Guess I need to pay more attention to where I'm going…" I tear my gaze away from her and turn to walk away as she stops me.

"Hey, wanna go have breakfast? Shift is almost over." Hmm, tempting. But I will just have to pass her up on that. I doubt I could control my need tonight.

"Rain check?" I answer, "See you around." It's not nice, brushing her off like that, I know. With an uneasy feeling inside I move away as quickly as possible.

This whole friedship thing we've been doing is really starting to wear me down.

It's been a bad idea from the beginning. The first days were awkward. After some time we did find a comfortable base, having breakfast and talking. I actually enjoyed myself with her. Yet one thing was missing: The physical contact, the tension outlet.

Being friends provides an excuse for touching her, but simple hugs and pecks on the cheek are by no means a substitute for hot and sweaty bed action.

I feel guilty for the way I look at her, the way I want her. I'm holding on to the promise of not using her anymore, and I do appreciate the easy friendship we share. I've learned some things about her, shared some of myself. I'm giving her the time and space she seemingly needs and it's all nice, still, where does that leave me?

On the way to a bar, looking for a quick fix. Shift's as good as done and there wasn't any news on my case anyway.

I pull into the parking lot and make my way inside. It's loud and smokey. It feels cheep. I order a stiff drink and cast my eyes across the crowd.

There's not much business this early in the morning - or late at night, whichever way you put it.

A man probably half my age winks at me. I turn around to swallow the last of my drink.

In the corner of the bar I spot a woman, dark hair, dark eyes, nursing a beer. For a second I think it is Sara. God only knows why she's on my mind all the time.

I contemplate moving over, testing the waters, before I decide against it. The resemblance might be slight but it's certainly there. Tonight I need a distraction, not a replacement.

A hand on my arm brings my focus to another man, decent looking, friendly smile. He offers to buy me another drink and I accept.

I shouldn't do this.

As he's above me, inside of me I'm trying to fight the images of Sara that keep flashing through my mind. Even when she's aggressive, her touch is much more gentle.

This isn't right.

I feel like I'm betraying her, which is absurd as there's nothing remotely romantical between us.

I try to change positions. For all his handsomeness he doesn't make a very skillful lover. It's not a real surprise that he's done before I'm even close.

Even when she's desperate for release she makes sure I get what I need.

He tells me to stay for a quick nap but all I want is to get out of here.

I shouldn't have done this.

I grab my clothes and put them on while heading for the door.

He's polite enough to offer me a ride home or to call a cab but I decline both. I don't want another second in his company. Instead I decide to walk home, it shouldn't take me longer than 40 minutes.

It's getting light outside, the streets come to life as I walk numbly, feeling even more frustrated than I did before.

I shouldn't have done this.


	13. Chapter 13

Sara

"Rain Check, see you around." While it's not uncommon for Catherine to refuse breakfast invitations her snub still stings. She looked troubled, all I did was offering an open ear. Appearantly that is not what she wanted. Well, maybe she had work to do.

Since breakfast isn't an option anymore I can just as well move on to get some work of my own done. Finding peace in a secluded lab I go about staring at crime scene photos, trying to find anything I might have overlooked the last 20 times.

"Hey, Sara," Warrick greets from the doorway, "still here?" I shrug, "So are you"

"Shift's been over for hours, I'm heading out. I highly recommend you do the same, you look like you need some sleep." I curse my body for choosing that exact moment to break out into a yawn. Warrick smirks triumphatically. I wish him a good night, even though it's probably nearing noon.

He had a point though, so when I'm sure he's at a safe distance I head towards the locker room and then home, no need to tell him I'm following his advice after all.

I throw my keys onto the kitchen counter and grab an apple on my way to the couch where I plop down with a tired sigh.

My thoughts drift back to Catherine again. What haven't we done on this very couch…I wonder if it'd still be like that haden't my mental meltdown crossed our routine.

Once again I regret not being brave enough to tell her the truth, that although I cherish our friendship I'd much rather have more.

I start again to weigh the pro and contra arguments of pursuing a relationship with her.

It might put our jobs at risk.

We are too different.

She has a daughter.

She only wanted sex.

I've got too much baggage.

I'm emotionally and socially inept.

I love her and I'm afraid to get my heart broken.

Then again, my heart is aching as it is, spending time with her I've also learned that there's a lot we have in common, maybe even enough to overcome our differences. And well, I might not have very advanced social skills but I do get along with Catherine, I guess I could pull it off if only I tried hard enough.

As for Lindsay, she seemed fine with me so far, at least the few times we've met. Plus, I really like her. She's smart, funny, feisty... she's like a mini-Catherine. I'm sure that given some time I could adjust to her, and vice versa.

The next point on my mental list is causing some contraditions within me. While the sex has always been mind-blowing, perfect, earth-shattering…and undoubtly wanted equally on both sides, I'm not quite sure how Catherine feels about it now.

I'm convinced that the attraction is definitely still there, and I have to admit that I wouldn't mind going back to it, hell, there's nothing I want more. Yet there's still the same old problem. I wouldn't be able to live with it being just sex anymore. My feelings for her run too deep.

Which brings me to the last argument, the one I cannot invalidate.

She doesn't love me back.

I stare at the black screen of my television, observing my reflection, sitting alone in an empty apartment, drowning in selfpity and insecurity.

Closing my eyes I try to alter that picure, imagine Catherine next to me, leaning against me with a book in her hands, wearing those incredibly sexy glasses, reading to me. The perfectness of that image hurts.

Suddenly my cellphone rings, startling me out of my reverie.

Catherine? Why would she call me at…what? It's two already.

"Catherine?"

"No, it's Lindsay." Now that's a surprise.

"Hey, Linds. What can I do for you?"

"I think there's something wrong with mom. Can you come?"

Her words trigger all sorts of scenarios in my head. I try to push them away, I need to reassure Lindsay first.

"Sure I can come. I'll be there in twenty, but it'd be helping if you told me what happened?"

"I don't know. She's sleeping, I think she is drunk."

Drunk? In the middle of day? Catherine?

"I'll be right there Linds." I tell her as I exit my apartment and all but race to the garage.

The door is open and Lindsay on the porch before I've even locked the car.

"She's in the bedroom" Lindsay explains as I follow her through the house.

On the bed lies Catherine, jeans unbottoned but otherwise still dressed -in the same clothes as last shift.

On the floor next to her stands a half emptied bottle of gin. My eyes wander back to her face, mascara crumbling around her eyes, smudging the area underneath.

Seeing her like that is slightly disturbing.

I send Lindsay out to get some water before going to do her homework. Expecting her to argue I'm surprised when she doesn't.

Bringing my attention back to Catherine I start to gently stroke her face. I'm not sure how she will take it but I think I'll be finding out soon enough. Sleepy eyes flutter open in confusion and shut in pain. I feel pity for her. Hangovers are not on my list of favourite experiences either.

I make her sit up and drink the water Lindsay brought after which she collapses back with a groan.

"Whatcha doing here?" she mumbles.

I briefly consider giving her a speech about her irresponsible behaviour but I think it's better not to cause a quarrel right now. So I simply explain that Lindsay had called me in her worry.

She looks guilty. And embarressed, which she should be.

Nevertheless the sight of her provokes my caring side to come alive and I ask her how she feels. Asking for explanations would probably be too much at once. She burries her face in her hands, moans and turns away from me.

I sigh. So much for getting any sleep before next shift. This promises to become an interesting day.


	14. Chapter 14

Lindsay

Stupid homework! Who cares about presidents who have died ages ago?

I'd much rather know what's going on in the other room.

When I came home I found mom still sleeping. That's not what bothered me, as it happens sometimes when she works overtime. The strange thing was that she had a bottle of something alcoholic next to her and the room smelled of it, too.

I wasn't sure what to do, I didn't want to call grandma and cause a drama, I couldn't call unlcle Grissom either, he's her boss after all, he shouldn't see her like that.

My next logical option was Sara. She and mom have been spending more time together lately, mom said they were becoming friends, so I figured Sara would be able to help.

I didn't expect that help to include history homework though.

Oh, whatever, I can do history later. I leave the book on my desk and move towards the bedroom. I know it's not ok to eavesdrop but otherwise I'll probably never be told what's going on in there.

I hear rustling and low voices. I think Sara is trying to convince mom of something. Footsteps, that sounds like a closet door. "Come on, Cat" is about all I can make out of what I'm hearing. All of a sudden the door swings open and Sara stares at me with a raised brow. Busted.

"I…uh…how's mom?" Nice save, Linds, I mentally pet myself on the shoulder.

"I told her to take a shower, after that she might feel a little more awake." What, no comment about listening in? She's real cool.

"Have you eaten yet?" She asks as she leads me away from moms bedroom.

"Just a piece of taost." I answer "But I can order pizza" Say yes, say yes.

"Or we could cook" she smirks. Well, as long as it's food…wait, we? Did she say we?

"Come on, let's check the kitchen for supplies." I groan. I hate cooking, it's boring and isn't it child labour anyways? I better not say that out loud, she's too smart to argue with…maybe I should have called Greg.

As it turns out, cooking doesn't have to be boring at all. Sara makes me chop some vegetables and all the time we are talking about stuff. She's one of the few adults who actually listen when you talk to them and not just "uh" and "ah" every once in a while.

Our meal looks mighty interesting. Sara scrambled things together that I wouldn't ever dare to mix but it does smell good so I'll give it a try.

We're almost done when mom comes in, she's still looking tired. She seems surprised at finding us cooking but sits down anyway to eat with us.

Since mom has entered the room the athmosphere has changed, Sara looks at her strangely and mom keeps quiet, avoiding both our eyes. Oh joy, she should have showered a little longer I guess.

When I'm finished I duck out of the room, saying I have to go back to my homework. I don't think I'll be writing much but it gives me a good excuse so I won't have to do the dishes. Plus, there isn't anything interesting happening anyways. I think they're even grateful that they can talk without me sitting there.

I'd love to know what they'll be talking about but having been caught by Sara once I don't want to risk a second time, it might not be that earth-shaking anyway. Alright then, back to George Washington…darn, I think I'll settle for math instead.


	15. Chapter 15

Catherine

My head hurts. Damn me for drinking that much.

I'm shivering under the cold water of the shower, unfortunately it doesn't help me waking up at all.

I'm trying to wrap my mind around what happened but everything is foggy. I recall going to the bar after shift, drinking some before going home with that guy, all the while attempting to divert my mind from it's preoccupation with Sara.

The same Sara who woke me up only minutes ago. What the fuck did I do?

Oh, yeah, I went home and opened a bottle of gin in order to erase all memories of my stupid distraction-fuck number and…oh my god, Lindsay called Sara! Lindsay saw me like this, what kind of a mother am I, getting drunk during the day to be found passed out by her own daughter…I want to throw up.

My stomach feels pretty empty though and I can't remember the last time I ate so I doubt anything would come out. I'd alternatively settle for dying.

I exit the shower and a nauseous feeling washes over me. I'll have to sit down for a minute. The throbbing in my head is getting worse. Yes, dying definitely sound like a plan.

Finally feeling stable enough to walk I make my way to the kitchen where I find Lindsay and Sara cooking. I don't know who surprises me more.

Domestic Sara is definitely a sight. I wish I could cherish this but I'm still experiencing difficulties simply trying to keep my eyes open.

Sinking down on a chair I contemplate whether I should risk eating in spite of the queasiness in my stomach or whether I'd better suffer from the tightening pain of hunger. I opt for the first. I can always run to the bathroom should need be.

Apart from that the lunch they've produced look tasty, if strange. I take some tiny bites only to find that the after-effects of my drinking session have left my tastebuds numb.

Lindsay tells me it's good though. Other than that she is unusually quiet, something that bothers me even if right now my head is grateful for the silence. Sara doesn't speak much either.

I don't dare meeting their eyes.

Sara must think I'm an irresponsible, uncaring, terrible mother and a basketcase for drinking too and Lindsay, god, I don't even want to know what Lindsay thinks of me right now.

Funny, I'm the one telling her about the dangers of drinking and then do it in front of her. Well, maybe I can twist it so she can view me as a bad example.

My plate is still full when Lindsay is getting up with an excuse. Since when does she do homework, voluntarily?

No time to dwell on that now because I'm left here with Sara who looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to what, talk?

Yeah right. Listen Sara, I got drunk and then fucked, then drunk some more all that merely becase I couldn't come up with any other way to get you out of my head. So, what do you say, screw our frindship, screw each other? I guess not.

"Listen, Catherine. I'm sorry if my presence makes you uncomfortable. You're not accountable to me. It's just that Lindsay called me and I didn't really know how to handle the situation over the phone so…um…If you you want me to I'll leave. But if you want to talk about anything, I'm here, I mean, we're still friends, right?"

Right.


	16. Chapter 16

Sara

Having finished my impromptu speech a strange feeling of emptiness washes over me. Though not in a bad way, it's more like the relief of having said my piece even if left a lot unsaid. Now it's up to Catherine to decide where this goes.

She blinks a few times, gathering her thoughts before she starts to speak.

"It was a stupid mistake I made. I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I'm not like this." She waves her hands in a weak attempt of an explanation. "Anyway, thank you for coming over and ah…for taking care of Linds, that was great for you to do."

"Anytime." I mange, slightly surprised. But then, this is Catherine, nothing's ever the way you expect it with her.

"So…"

So what?

"I should…ah, explain this to Linds I guess…" I so want to hear that, see her squirm around. Bet she can somehow manage to come out of this with a clean coat….by the way, was that her way of telling me to leave?

"I…shit." Ok maybe not.

"Catherine?" Is she crying? She sure looks close to tears. Shit indeed, I have no clue how I'm supposed to deal with her when she's like this.

She isn't like this. She's stong and determined and she knows exactly who she is and what she wants. Still here she is, sitting across from me in her kitchen looking defeated, tired and so very small. It makes me want to reach for her, touch her, reassure her. We're friends, right? Friends somfort each other.

Carefully I move my trembling hand to a strand of blonde that is blocking my view of her eyes. She glares at me as I tuck it behind her ear and I immediately pull back. That is when she crumbles and the wetness makes her glare fade into softness.

"It's ok Cat, whatever it is, you can tell me." My words sound trite and meaningless to my own ears.

"Catherine," I try again "is it about Linds?" She looks up at me, obviously not expecting this. "She's a smart kid you know, she was worried but she doesn't judge you. I'm sure she understands if you tell her it was a rough case…"

"And if it wasn't?" she interrupts with more venom in her voice than I expected.

"Then maybe she would unterstand that too." I reason. She lets out a huff.

"Well, tell me then." It's worth a try I decide.

"I think you better leave Sara. I have to figure out what I'm telling my daughter." Ok, so she made up her mind. This hurts. In her state I don't want to argue with her though so I refrain from pushing and get up to get to the door where she already stands.

Her slightly slumped stance prompts me to make one last attempt at approaching her.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk?" "Yes!" That was loud, sharp and clear.

"Call if you need anything." The masochist in me offers as I turn to leave the house. The door closes with a thud, leaving me and my feeling of emptiness out on the other side.

This time it's simply feeling hollow.


	17. Chapter 17

Catherine 

I bang my head against the closed door. Fuck. That hurt.

Shit, Willows, get your act together! You got yourself into this mess now you got to stand up for it. Isn't that what I keep preaching my daughter?

Admonishing myself to take responibility for my actions I walk up tp Lindsay's room and tentatively knock on the open door.

"Hey sweety," I start off desperately hoping I sound _normal._

"Hey, Sara gone already?" Well, yeah, after I practically kicked her out… "Yes, she had um…things to do…"

"Oh…I thought she was free, she said that she'd stay."

"She did?" Why would she say something like that?

"Yeah, when we were cooking…she told me I didn't have to worry and that she'd find out what's wrong."

"Yeah, well, nothing's wrong so there was no need for her to stay."

Note to self: never underrestimate my daughters ability to read people. The sceptical look on her face tells me I'll have to do better - a lot better - if I want her to believe me.

"Listen, baby," I start, ignoring her glare at the much hated endearment, "what I did today was stupid. Really stupid. I had a hard night at work and I just really needed to unwind, you know, get some things out of my head. I shouldn't have chosen alcohol for that, I didn't intend to drink that much. And I certainly didn't mean to sleep in and have you find me like that. I'm sorry for putting you into that situation."

I take a deep breath awaiting her reaction. She just stares at me. I think she practiced that inscrutable expression a few times too often.

"Lindsay, do you get what I'm saying?" Then maybe at least one of us does.

"Yeah. You're sorry for passing out drunk." I wince at the harshness of that. I deserve it though.

"Linds, sweety, I…"

"It's ok, mom," she interjects, "I get it, next thing you tell me to remember your impression of _half dead_ whenever I come near to even smelling alcohol, right?"

I swallow, about to give her a piece of my mind for talking like that when I realize how close she is to the truth.

"I told you I was stupid." I say for lack of any words that would justify my actions.

"Did you apologize to Sara?" What? My eyes must look like plates when the words hit me. Where the hell did that come from?

My blank expression seems to spur her into carrying on.

"She looked real tired and still she came over here without questions, took care of us and didn't even lecture you and I could see that she wanted to! And now she's gone without a word so I figure you told her in all your _friendliness_ to leave. Am I right or am I right?"

Oh, missy, you'd be in so much trouble if it weren't for the fact that you _are_ right and your bluntness has me stunned into shock.

When the hell did she grow up into another me? This is so not corresponding with my gameplan…

"Mom?" What, she isn't done yet? I clear my throat.

"You're lucky I'm not grounding you for this, you know." My feeble attempt at taking back my mother role is cut short by her next remark.

"Go, call her."


	18. Chapter 18

Catherine

I know that Lindsay is right. I know that I'll have to apologize to Sara. I just don't think I should do it over the phone. My mind is only just starting to work through the hangover-induced fog and I don't think I'm up to a conversation that won't allow me to gauge her reaction while I'm disabled of coherent speech.

Maybe I shouldn't talk to her at all, I could write her a letter instead. It'd give me the advantage of thinking through what exactly I want to tell her and she wouldn't get the chance to interfere until I'm done.

I sit down at the dining room table with a pad of papers and a pen. There we go…

_Dear Sara, _

_I'm sorry for practically throwing you out today. I wasn't exactly in the mood to talk and when you..._

Shit. That's trite.

_Dear Sara_

_I wish to apologize for being so curt with you when you were just trying to help. You didn't deserve my attitude. It wasn't a personal thing-_

Damn, that sounds too formal. And it's not entirely true. It was personal. Everything about her is personal.

_Sara, I'm sorry._

Short and painless. No, she deserves more than a simple _Sorry._

_Dear Sara, _

Ah…hell! I can't seem to think straight! All my attempts at letters sound like a teenager had written them. On second thought, the whole idea of a letter is juvenile in itself.

Crumpling up the paper I get up just in time to hear a key turn in my lock. I glance at the clock. Shit. I should start getting ready for work.

I greet my mom in passing, praying she won't take notice of the tiredness I know is still apparent on my face.

I come by Lindsay's room, inform her that her grandma is there and carry on to the bathroom.

A little more make up makes my eyes feel heavier but does a lot of good to my looks.

When I'm done Linds sits on the couch with my mother. She is still angry at me for not calling Sara and I know that I'll have a lot of fixing up to do, with both of them.

Thankfully she hasn't told mom about the fiasco or else she'd be ripping me a new one - not what I need at the moment.

I say my goodbyes as I step over to where Lindsay is seated. The kiss intended to land on her cheek brushes her ear as she turns away. I sigh. "I love you, sweetheart." I say pulling my reluctant daughter into an uncomfortable hug.

Not wanting to make matters worse I pull back.

"Bye mom." I throw over my shoulder, hoping to escape her before she can grill me about Lindsay's attitude.

I contemplate whether I should be driving since my pulsating brain reminds me of the almost emptly gin bottle in my bedroom but then I blink it away, put on my shades and enter the vehicle.

I turn on the radio and start tapping my fingers against the wheel to the rhythm of the beat. Music has always helped me to clear my thoughts.

I drive by my favorite coffee shop and order the strongest they've got. The taste of coffee awakens flashbacks of Sara. She always tastes of coffee and well, Sara.

My emerging smile turns into a frown. I still have to find a way to tell her that I'm sorry. Striding across the street to where I've parked I spot a flower stand on the other side. I smile then frown again.

Should I get her flowers? No, that's cheesy. Plus, isn't that what men do when they cheat on their wives?

Another memory bubbles up. Me sleeping with that man. Me cheating -no, I argue with that inner voice. We're not a couple. I did not cheat.

Still I betrayed her trust. I mistreated her.

The voice inside my head won't shut up.

She's trying, reaching out, being my friend. And I?


	19. Chapter 19

Sara

It's been a long shift including a three weeks old decomp near a gas station a few miles outside the city. There wasn't much trace left to secure but what little we have has been processed meticulously. My neck is sore from sitting over the evidence table for the better half of shift and my eyes hurt from staring at the same results over and over again, trying to put sense into them. My only hope is that by begin of next shift the doc has identified the victim so we have something more to go on from.

One good thing came of that poor man's death though. It kept me from thinking about Catherine. Seems my mind needs so catch up on that now because ever since I put away today's evidence the events from yesterday come playing back through my conscious.

I haven't seen her all night-which is probably a good thing. It's silly really, to be worried about her. She's old enough to take care of herself. She is responsible enough to assess the consequences of her own actions. She doesn't need to be watched over.

Deep in thought I blindly find my way to my locker. I reach for it when my hand comes into contact with something un-metallic. I look up, surprised to find a rose attached to my locker. Someone must have mistaken it for somebody else's. I take it off anyway and bring it my nose to inhale it's sweet scent. Whoever it was meant for I have no way to find out. Or technically I might but I don't feel it's worth the effort.

Instead I place it on the bench and open the door so I can get my things and leave.

Inside I'm once again surprised to see a card on top of my stuff. Guess I'm about to find out who the rose was for after all.

The envelope is plain, no indication of where it came from or who it is addressed to. It's not glued so I have no difficulty opening it and pulling out an equally plain but stylish card white card. It's front is framed with a slight silver border and one corner sports a delicate flower of the same coloring. Inside in fine handwriting it reads a time a date and a place. A rather expensive place I might add. The handwriting is distinctively Catherine's.

I read the text again.

_There's some things I have to tell you_

My head is reeling over the invitation. I'm glad she decided on talking to me. But why choose a place so over the top?

I close the locker in confusion and turn to leave. That's when I remember the rose. The card and the rose…one and one…holy shit, she isn't asking me on a date now, or is she?


	20. Chapter 20

Catherine 

I collapse on my bed in exhaustion. After a long shift and spending a good hour discussing my reasons for a night off with Grissom I was more than ready to get home. It wasn't by any means easy to convince him without revealing anything peronal while making sure he won't call Sara in as my stand-in. Luckily my persuasive power payed off in the end so there is nothing more in the way of our date.

Nothing except the doubt that is starting to worm itself into my head.

I'm still a bit unsure about the whole dinner invitation. Maybe it's too much. I don't want to scare her away. My only intention is to put her in state of slight unease. An elegant dinner will allow me a superior position as it will likely intimdate her. It's cruel, I know. But it's a safe way to make her sit and listen. Or so I hope.

On the contrary it could crush any shred of comfort that exist between us if she doesn't feel relaxed. I do want her alert but I don't want her freaked. I'm merely looking for a way to apologize and in that instance to steady once more the fragile friendship my rude behaviour has endangered. Now I'm starting to wonder if I'm putting it at risk with my straight forward invitation. I mean, what if she reads more into the whole thing?

After all, I put a freaking rose on her locker! That looks suspiciously like asking for a date. Well, it could very well become one... In the dating area I know what I'm doing at least. The friendship thing however is relatively foreign to me. The only close frieds that I have are Grissom and Warrick, and neither of these relationships can be compared to my current situation with Sara.

Warrick and me have always been sliding the edge between friendly and flirting, he is always been there for me but the innuendo and teasing has never been more than fun, something to be taken lightly. Sure there were times I felt a certain attrection toward him but it's never been more than that. Something in our heads. It never threatened our easy companionship.

And Grissom, well he's Grissom, what else is there to say. He's emotionally unavailable. Our friendship while honest is distanced.

The point is that with both of them I know what I'm at. Both of them I know how to handle. With Sara I'm just not sure.

I've never had a very close female friend. Of course there are women I get along with, even some I call among my wider circle of friends, but none of them are really close to me. And more importantly, none of the I have slept with. Furthermore, none of the people I know -male and female- are remotely as complicated as _her._

I let out a deep sigh. Maybe I shouldn't wreck my brain over it and just wait how it goes. Maybe I should wait for her reaction in the first place.

Which brings me to the ralization that she hasn't yet given me an answer. She must have read the card by now. It's past the end of shift and even if she pulls overtime again she is bound to open her locker at one point. Then again, this is Sara. She could be so lost in her evidence that she's sitting right through the beginning of next shift without ever getting up.

I could call her...but then I'd have to tell her about placing the rose on her locker which is a thing she should discover on her own. On the other hand, if she has gotten it already calling her would be obstrusive. Either way it eould make me look desperate, something I am not. In complete honesty, I _am_ but that's beside the point...I should try to sleep over it...if only my brain would shut up long enough to let me.

Twisting and turning won't help so I get up to grab a book and sit on the sofa to read, hopefully that will distract me.

I must have fallen asleep reading since I wake up with my glasses on and my neck stiff.

I sit up stretching in order to get the kinks out of my upper back and roll my head. Padding into the kittchen I stop to check both my answering machine and cell phone -nothing. My pride quickly removes the idea of calling Sara for an answer, I can deal with her later. Right now I have to remember I still need to set things straight with Lindsay. Maybe preparing her favorite pasta might be a first step.


	21. Chapter 21

Lindsay

The first thing I do when I get home is throw my backpack into the corner by the door and slam the door shut.

"Mom! I'm home!" I yell through the house, knowing it will annoy her. I expect the usual "Don't yell, I'm not deaf" but I'm met with silence. That's weird.

"Hello?" I try again. This time mom emerges from the kitchen and asks me how my day was. What really fuels my suspicion now is the smile she has on her face.

"It was alright" I shrug, I doubt she really cares about school gossip. The last time I told her she was barely listening.

My mood changes for the better when I recognize the smell of zucchini and tomatoes in the air, she made pasta, and my favorite -well, right after pizza.

Looks like she's feeling guilty for yesterday. A smirk settles on my face as I think of the many possibilities to take advantage of a guilty mom.

She tells me to wash my hands and set the table. She gets a well deserve eye roll in reply. When will she finally learn that I'm not a baby that needs to be told when to wash? Probably when I'm thirty. I do as she asks anyway, sometimes it's just not worth a squabble.

I'm in the middle of getting the plates from the cupboard when she speaks up.

"I'm expecting an apology for last night you know?" Wow, smooth, mom. May I ask what for?

"Did you apologize to Sara?" I challenge, "because if not, I don't see why I should" I bite my lip. I hope I'm not going too far with this. She doesn't look happy.

"Lindsay, sit down." Ok, here comes my lecture.

"First off I don't ever want you to talk to me like that. I'm your mother, I think I deserve a little more respect." I better not speak up now.

"As for what's between Sara and me, not that it's your business but I plan on talking to her." Means you haven't yet.

"I just didn't see her tonight and I wanted to talk to her in person. Why is it so important to you anyway?" I have to keep myself from snorting at that. She's rude to the only cool friend she has -well the guys from the lab are sort of cool too but that's beside the point- and now she's asking me why I care?

"I like her, I thought you did too."

"You do?" For being so smart she sure is slow at times, she truly sounds surprised. I give her a duh-expression. I mean, what's there not to like about Sara?

"Ah, well, anyways...I'll be having dinner with Sara tomorrow night, I'll talk to her so there's no need for you to be so indignant anymore."

"You guys have a date?" I blurt out.

"No!" Now that sounds way too defensive. "We're uh, just going out for dinner."

"Ok," I smirk, no need to justify that...

Wow, mom and Sara... I knew there was _something,_ but dating? Well, better Sara than anyone I don't know -or like for that matter.

"What're you grinning at?"

"I'm not grinning." If denial works for you, it works just as well for me.

"Sure." she smiles. "I'm hungry, isn't the pasta ready?" Great transition on my side. I get up to hide my smug expression.

"So, you still haven't told me how your day went." she starts as I set the food on the table. Wasn't that the first thing I said upon coming home?

"I told you it was alright."

"Just alright? Nothing happened?"

"Um...no, not really. Mike got suspended for telling off the substitute teacher, Miss Carrington, it was mean but funny to watch." I laugh at the memory of her face, utterly shocked that someone so 'young' and 'innocent' knew such words.

She smiles instead of getting worked up over the 'disrespectful youth of today'. I shake my head. Whatever changes she's going through, I'm starting to like it.


	22. Chapter 22

Sara

I'm nervous when I enter the lab a good hour early for shift. I'll have to face Catherine tonight to find out about her intentions regarding the dinner tomorrow. I know I should have called her before, she's probably waiting for an answer but I'm afraid. I want her to confirm that she means it as a date but the odds are very much against that. Seriously, why would she want that, -me? Two days ago she basically threw me out, not even wanted my frindship. Now she's asking me out -platonically- and I'm getting my hopes up. That's stupid. And it's totally me.

Well, at least she is willing to talk. I shouldn't be ignoring her. It means a lot to me that she has taken that step. Since I doubt she's in already -she's most likely spending time with her daughter- I decide I will go to her later.

For now that means I should get some work done. I head for the morgue.

Appearantly the dental records of Mr. Doe came back with an id. Howard Newton. Now that I have a name and an adress I can meet up with Brass to pay the man's appartment a visit. Looks like I can put off seeing Catherine for a few more hours. Somehow that's a relief, my nerves are playing havoc with me just thinking about her.

I curse myself for being so silly and push everything related to Catherine out of my mind. I have a job to do after all.

Over a house-search, shuffling through a stack of papers on the victims desk and an early morning visit to the his ex-wife the night has progressed into midday. It suddenly hits me that I have completely forgotten to call Catherine and that we have a date (of whichever kind) tonight -provided I accept the invitation. Shit. I hope she's still up for it.

I call Brass to inform him about the current upcomings in our case and that I have the night off so he might have to call in someone else if neccessary. After that I grab my things and get to my car. Once inside and undisturbed I retrieve my phone and, with trembling hands, dial Catherine's number.

It rings. Three times. Four times. Fiv- "Hello?" She sounds sleepy. Shit, I must have woken her up.

"Uh, hey. It's me, Sara. I, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" What a moron am I? I can't even form a coherent sentence around her!

"That's alright actually, I had to get up anyway." She's not annoyed, which is a good thing.

"So, is there a reason you called?" I'm such a mess.

"Uh, yes, actually...I'm calling about the date, I..." Yeah, a stuttering, goddamned mess. Somebody shoot me, please.

"Oh, you got other plans already?" Is that disappointment I hear in her voice? That's confusing. How much does this _date_ really mean to her?

"Sara?" Oh shit. Talk, Sara!

"No. Sorry. No, I don't have plans. I uh, I was meaning to call you before but I totally forgot over the case, so uh, sorry." I'm rambling like an idiot.

"Oh...That's alright, Sara." She pauses. "So, if you don't want to cancel are you calling to confirm the date?"

"Yes." I eloquently answer.

"Good. I'll see you at eight then." comes her reply.

"Ok." I hear her chuckle, great now she's laughing at me.

"Great, I'll be looking forward to it." She will?

"Yeah, me too." I could have phrased that better. "I'll see you at eight then." I need to end this conversation before I'm dying of emberassment.

"Alright. Bye, Sara, and dress nice." with that she hangs up.

I feel like the biggest moron in the world but at least she seemd relieved over my poorly formulated acception of the dinner. Hold on a second. She told me to dress _nice_ what the hell am I going to wear? I don't own anything _nice. _

Ok, calm down. Think. I have...oh shit, 7 hours to get ready. I need to find appropriate clothes, shower, do my hair and I should sleep a little before I go on a date, won't look good when I collapse onto my plate.

Damn, now I remember why I've never liked dating. Ok, deep breaths. Everything will be alright. It's not a _real _date. It's Catherine. It's...I have no idea but whatever it is it's robbing me from my senses and turns me into a babbling mess of giddyness. The last thing I ever want to be.

Shit.


	23. Chapter 23

Catherine 

19:45. I'm drumming my fingers against the table top, waiting. It's not like I'm nervous. It's not like I'm uncomfortable. It's just that I'm not so sure anymore that this was such a good idea.

Not for the first time in the past couple of days have I questioned my sanity about this invitation. But I've managed to convinced myself and I'm not one to doubt my own decisions.

So here I am, 19:47, waiting.

I've forced my fingers to restrain their movement, in a place like this I feel I should behave more classy, so no drumming, foot tapping or playing with the seam of the table cloth.

19:49. I should also cut down on the constant glancing at the time.

The waiter appears, asking whether I'd like a drink. I ask for wine and two glasses. I really hope she hasn't changed her mind -or god forbid forgot about today. With Sara you never know, maybe she's been called in, maybe...

"Hey" My heart jumps at the sudden voice.

"Sorry, am I too late?" 19:52 "No, not at all. Good to see you." My eyes travel up long pant-clad legs, pass over a very fitting claret top, a delicious yet decent amount of cleavage up to a beautiful face framed by wavy brown hair. Good to see her indeed.

"You look beautiful." I tell her as she takes a seat opposite me. My comment causes a pretty shade of pink to colour her cheeks and her gaze instantly drops to the table.

"Thanks" she mumbles, then looks up. "But you're the one who's truly stunning." I smile at her compliment.

The waiter serves our wine and hands us the menu. Sara stares at it for a while, looking more and more like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Something wrong?" I query.

"No, I ah, sort of...I mean...this place is rather extravagant, as are the prices." She stammers in a really cute manner.

"It's ok, Sara. I invited you, there's no need for you to worry." I don't think she's satisfied with that.

"That's the problem, Cath, it's, well...I just don't feel comfortable knowing you spent so much money on me." she stares at her hands, obviously embarrassed. I doubt she's ever been taken out anywhere fancy. Needing to reassure her I seek eye contact.

"Sara, you're worth it, don't worry, ok? I wouldn't have asked you out here if I wasn't willing to, so please, just relax." She's still not entirely convinced but wisely keeps to herself and focuses back on the menu.

Once we've ordered she calms a little more and we fall into a light conversation. She asks about Lindsay, suddenly reminding me of the main reason I brought her here.

"Linds is fine." I tell her, "She's asking about you, she really has a thing for you, you know."

She blushes again and it's almost comical to see this side of her when on the job -and on the occasions I've met her outside work- she appears a lot more confident, bold and determined.

"I like her too." she smiles. "She's a great kid, very smart, too."

"Oh, that she is" I say proudly. She's very special, my little angel.

"Actually, she's the one who pointed out to me how very rude I was to you. The other day, when you came over and took care of her -of us, I didn't really treat you like a friend. I'm truly sorry for that Sara. I appreciate what you've done, it's not natural."

She opens her mouth to interject but I don't let her.

"No, Sara, let me finish this. I need to apologize. I was so ashamed that I had let myself sink so low, I was disappointed in myself. It was bad enough that my daughter had to see me like that, I was so embarrassed and angry with myself that I just couldn't bare having you around on top of that. That's no excuse I know, but I just want you to understand. I'm sorry. I'm so lucky to have a friend like you, I almost threw that away. I wanted to thank you, Sara, I ... Thank you."

For emphasis I take hold of her hand and look her square into the eyes, letting my words sink in in hopes she realizes the truth behind my statement.

"You would have done the same." she shrugs. I snort.

"No, I wouldn't. Had I seen you get yourself drunk, fucked and passed out, forgetting about your child and scaring her to death by not responding I would have kicked your sorry ass out of bed!"

My outburst has her shocked. Yeah, that's me and my big mouth. Wait. Did I just tell her I got _fucked_?

Oh shit. My eyes move up to meet hers only to see her smiling.

"Yeah, sounds more like you." That statement makes us both laugh.

"Oh, and apology accepted." She adds when our laughter subsides. That really is a relief. She sqeezes my hand that is still resting close to hers.

Now that the fronts have been cleared we have no difficulty falling back into the easy rythm we have developed over the past couple of weeks. Finally our food arrives and we share light conversation over dinner. We talk about life, make fun of people we know, trade little stories. Nothing too deep, nothing too emotional. Nothing that could in any way ruin the mood. And I love it.

It's good to laugh with her, it's good to feel comfortable and it's fun to flirt, subtly, even though I get the impression that she's totally oblivious to it -but maybe that's the reason it's so much fun.

Time is passing quickly, soon we've finished both dinner, dessert and two bottles of wine. And we're still easily talking.

The only thing dampening the comfort are the chairs we're sitting on. Right now my back is craving for a soft warm couch and my feet wouldn't mind a coffeetable to rest upon.

I mention my dilemma and Sara grins in agreement. Without a word I raise my hand for the waiter to aks for the bill and for him to call us a cab. Neither of us should be driving after the wine.

Sara being Sara tries once more to argue me into letting her at least pay for her own part but I insist on taking care of it. She only gives in when I promised I'll let her pay the cab.

Outside we wait for our drive. It occurs to me that the evening hasn't really gone the way I expected it to, then again I didn't really have any expectations. I wanted to tell her my piece, which I did. From there on I was just going to wait and see.

I have to admit there were moments where I thought I might bring up the topic of our relationship but in the end I didn't follow through. It would have been too soon. It's still disappointing though, knowing that the evening is coming to an end. Our date has been wonderful. Not that it really was a date, I mean a date would guarantee a kiss godnight and well, a lot more kisses leading to a very good night... Which in our case would mean falling back into old habits and that would lead to her getting hurt. So, no kiss...

"Cath?" a gentle hand touches my arm. "The cab is there." Yeah, right. The cab. Going home.

Sara holds the door open for me, making me smile. When she's seated she turns to me as if to speak. I watch her collecting her thoughts for a while, waiting for her to say something. She doesn't.

"What is it?" I ask when I can't tolerate her silence anymore. We're almost at my house so she better get this out whatever it is.

"I..." she starts, then quitens.

"You what?" I press gently.

"Um, I was wondering, I mean it's still not that late and, uh...my place is rather lonely so um...would you mind some company?"

Her stammering lets her appear like a little girl, it's sweet. And who am I to deny company anyway? With Lindsay at my sister's my house is just as lonely. Not that it generally bothers me but having someone around is nice. And I didn't want to the evening to end anyways.

"Sure. So, my couch or yours?" I wink causing her to chuckle. "We're almost at your place so unless you want to turn around and drive another twenty minutes..."

The cab driver pulls to a halt in front of my house and Sara is happy to pay the tab. I open the door and offer her a drink. She decides another wine is better than coffee so I hand her a bottle and get us glasses.

We settle on the couch and I assure her it's okay for her to rest her feet on the table. Mimicking her posture I reach for the glass as she pours it half full.

"To a wonderful evening." I say and clink my glass to hers. "And a wonderful night" she adds. And then, out of nowhere her face is right in front of me.

I don't have time to analyze, to tell myself I need to stop her. Her lips press onto mine, gently but with force. My body responds on autopilot. Damn, she can kiss. I hadn't realized how much I've missed kissing her, touching her, feeling her.

A voice inside my head screams at me not to do this, not to hurt her, not to let her hurt herself. Soon it's silenced by a moan.


	24. Chapter 24

Sara

Everything inside of me is a teetering, fluttering mess. My body is trembling, I'm sweating and my head is spinning like crazy.

I'm kissing Catherine, on her couch. And she is kissing me back.

I have absolutely no idea where my boldness is coming from when I'm around her but right now is not the time to question it.

I'm kissing Catherine.

It's almost as though I hadn't realize how much I've missed this and now the taste of her lips is bringing every memory back. Pulling back to breathe we regard each other for the shortest of moments then place the wine glasses we're still holding on the table before crashing back into each other.

Taking a life on their own my hands move up Catherine's smooth bare thighs until her breath hitches. She kisses me forcefully, disabling me of any concious thought. I feel her shift, it takes a while for me to register she's standing up, pulling me with her. Together we move to her bedroom. It's difficult, walking with shaking legs but I manage. She lets out a moan again when my hands once more stroke up her legs, taking her dress with them. We part long enough for me to disrobe her then meet again in a passionate kiss.

Whether it's the wine, the heat or merely Catherine I can't tell but my mind is spinning in the surreality of the moment. Gently I guide her to the bed and push her back into a lying position. For comfort I shed my pants, dropping them somewhere on the floor. Her eyes glint as they meet mine, stirring the need in me to kiss her senseless. Lowering myself above her I do just that and am again captured by the pure sex she is.

I let my fingers wander across her chest, her arms, her face. Almost reverently they dance over her flushed skin.

I've fucked her, literally, so many times. But now is completely different. Now I want to take my time. Now I don't come looking for my own release. Now I want to worship her.

My lips descend on her throat, kiss, lick, nip along her neck and shoulders. She leans back and archs into me, moaning, gasping, whispering.

I move lower, kiss the valley between her perfect breasts, taste her sweat. Ever so lightly I breathe against her upper body, watch her shudder. She's so beautiful.

By now she's getting impatiant, she's always one to go straight for the goal. Therfore she tries to guide me down, presses her nipples into my face.

And how could I deny her? Deny myself the pleasure and sensation of licking her hard little peaks. She moans again, loudly. It's becoming a constant background noise in her bedroom. And one of my favourite sounds.

I move my arm down to her knee from where I slowly massage upwards, groping her thighs, dangerously close up to her centre then mercilessly back down. Her frustration comes out in a growl. My fingers dig into the back of her thigh, inching up to her ass, pulling her into my ribcage while my mouth is again busy licking the underside of her chest. I'd love to tease her the whole night but the impatient, frustrated squirming has me afraid she might wake up eventually and realize she doesn't want this.

Nevertheless I'm not ready to give in just yet. Her anticipation mingles with mine. I need to have her, taste her, feel her come. Not yet. My patience is stronger then hers and I manage to pull away from her enough to shift into a different angle. She graons loudly. Her hands grip my shoulders, pushing me down. Still, I resist, softly kiss her shoulder again. I want to whisper in her ear to be patient, it will be worth the wait. But I'm afraid to break the spell. So instead I just lick the shell of her ear, distracting her from my hands that are busy spreading her legs.

I don't dare looking at her face. I don't dare talking to her. My fingers brush along her wetness and she screams, head thrown back, hands digging sharply into my shoulderblades. That's it. I can't take it anymore. Without further warning I enter her with my fingers, causing her to fly off the bed and press into me.

A few more licks to her breast, down to her navel and I've reached the source of her desire. Inhaling deeply I lower my lips to her sweetness. Soon the combination of my hands and mouth has her reeling and she flows over with pleasure and bliss.

Crawling up beside her I look her in the eyes for the first time, well at her eyes, they're closed. They flutter open though and she smiles at me, pulls me toward her and presses a kiss to my lips. Ok, that doesn't taste of regret to me. I take that as a good sign.

Her kisses taste best when she's in her post orgasmic haze, when she's all spent yet full of power, sensuality, kissing me with force, want and brutal honesty.

Basking in the sensation I close my eyes until I feel her pull away. She gasps loudly, sounding shocked and my eyes fly open to find out what is wrong. Whatever it is, the expression she gives me is not what I'd been hoping for.


	25. Chapter 25

Catherine

God, the things this woman can do with her tongue... I lie, panting, breathing out the aftermath of her treatment. My pulse is racing, my body limp. Slowly I open my eyes to find her face hovering just inches above mine. Out of reflex I pull her down for a kiss.

The taste of her combined with the flavour of my very own essence has me hot again in an instant. The collision of lips and tongues is almost as powerful as the explosion that erupted inside of me only seconds ago, making me wish for this moment to never go away.

I've never had a lover who made me feel so _alive, _who cared enough to...Shit.

I pull back, gasping. Daring to open my eyes I see the very expression I was hoping not to find. It's what I expected yet it's what I dreaded to see- It't the proof I didn't need, that very _care_, the warmth, the gentleness only a live time partner should show. It's love. Sara is falling in love with me. And in all honesty I've been aware of that before tonight. I took advantage of her, not intetionally, no, but I did. Granted, she almost threw herself at me, took the first step, offered herself. With the way she kissed me she was doing her best to make it impossible for me to resist. However, I'm stuck here now, once again, in a situation I don't know how to handle.

"Cath, is something wrong?" her voice rings through my overladen mind.

Yes. A lot is wrong. I promised not to treat you like you were just a fling. I promised to be your friend. And now I've failed you once again.

I sigh. Clearing my throat and reaching for the covers I pull them up over my chest. She eyes me sceptically, concerned, most of all confused.

"I'm sorry." That's all I can come up with. Alcohol and orgasms have never been the best foundation for a clear state of mind.

"What for?" she asks, looking hurt and still confused.

"I...this," I motion between us, unsure of how to say this without crushing her heart."...this shouldn't have happened." I force out quickly. She doesn't move, doesn't talk.

"I'm sorry" I repeat. I have absolutely no idea how to convey this to her. Hence we sit, awkwardly, silently regarding each other.

When I can't take the silence anymore I reach out to her face, pull her to me so she is forced to make eye contact.

"Sara." She swallows stiffly. "Listen. What happened here is wrong, for so many reasons. I...I know how you feel. And I'm sorry for being so selfish and not stopping you when I should have. I souldn't have flirted with you, shouldn't have sent you these signals. We decided to be friends and now we thoroughly messed that up again."

She is uncharacteristically quiet, her expression unreadable. It worries me that she neither argues nor adds to my words.

"Sara?" I think I've royally fucked this up now. She pulls away, moves to the side of the bed. I watch as she picks up her pants and pulls them on.

"Sara, wait." I get up. Realizing I'm completely naked my uneasiness increases. By the time I've pulled a t-shirt over my head I hear the front door slam.

Shit.

I hurry after her and open the door. All I can make out in the semidarkness is her retreating back. "Sara!" I call out after her, to no avail. Not that I was expecting her to halt or to turn.

Clad in nothing more than the aforementiond shirt I decide not to run after her. Instead I go back inside and try to call on her cell. Chances are slim that she's going to answer and I really don't know what to say but I'm trying nevertheless.

It rings three times before I hear a different ringing in the background. Turning into the direction the sound is coming from I spot her purse, complete with her phone, on my coffee table. So much for calling.

I sink down on the sofa, staring at the untouched glasses still filled with wine. Suddenly a thought hits me: If she doesn't have her purse with her she might also be missing her keys. A quick check into its contents confirms my assumption. The keys are here with the rest of her things.

Sighing deeply I walk back into the bedroom, grab some clothes and make my way out to follow Sara. I know I'm not in the proper contition to drive but right now I don't care. I can't have her stand alone outside her apartment in the middle of the night, slighly drunk and upset at that.

A rough five minutes into my drive I spot a lone figure trotting down the sidewalk, head hung low, step tired and sluggish. I slow the vehicle until I'm in tune with her speed. Through the rolled down window I start talking to her.

"Sara, hold on a second." No reaction.

"Come on Sara, please." Nothing.

"Can't we just talk about this?" Oh yeah, that's trite. And futile.

"You forgot your keys." At least that's making her look up. She holds out her hand. I sigh. She can be so frustrating, I wonder why I even bother.

"Hey, let me at least drive you home while I'm already here." For a few second's she is unresponsive before finally she stands.

The air is heavy when she buckles in beside me.

"Drive" is the only word she sais, then she's silent until we arrive at her place.

She's about to reach for the door when I lock it. It's a dangerous decision but I don't want her to go in there and never speak with me again.

"We should talk." Looks like the not speaking works inside here just as well.

"Sara, look at me" I plead, feeling silly and not myself.

"Just let me get out, ok?" Her face is directed at me, her gaze is far off though.

I reach my hand out to lightly touch her arm and she immidiately flinches in response.

"I'm sorry" I try one last time. Then I open the doors, it's no use to keep her locked in here, if she doesn't want to converse nothing in the world can make her.

The whole vehicle vibrates at the impact of the door slamming shut. I watch her disappear into the building and close my eyes.

"Shit" I mutter to the empty car.


	26. Chapter 26

Sara

I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry.

Damnit! Full of anger I slam the door of her car shut with force. I need air, space, need to get away from her. Running up to my apartment I repeat my mental mantra.

I'm not going to cry.

By the time I reach for the keys my cheeks are covered in wetness.

I want to scream, yell, run, move, just _anything._ Then crawl into a shell and never face the world again.

_"What happened here is wrong, for so many reasons"_ Catherine's voice follows me through my apartment.

_"I know how you feel"_ Damn you, Willows, you know shit!

I angrily swing open the refrigerator and pull out a beer. I can still taste her, even after the first sip of the bitter drink.

I stubbornly wipe at the tears blurring my vision. Why do things have to be so complicated? Why does this woman get to me like that? Why does falling in love have to hurt so bad?

It could be so easy, like in those silly lovesongs or romantic movies...two people, attracted to one another, finding peace and happiness. But no, this is real life, this is_ my_ life, of course it has to be painful.

I lean back against the kitchen counter, wondering how the hell I ended up in a situation like this -again.

What is it about me that makes everyone think I'm a cheap fuck on the side? It's not like I'm running around with a tag saying _"use me"._

And here I thought she was different, I was so sure I finally found someone who _cared_. How dare she tell me that? Call us _friends_?

The last time I checked the definition of friendship had to do with sensitivity and understanding. Honesty.

Bringing the bottle to my lips I discover that it's empty. Great, now I'm starting to drink subconciously, fail to notice how much I actually consume. Can I get any more pathetic?

I set the bottle onto the counter and make my way to the couch where I turn on the TV. I can't get stuck on thoughts of Catherine if I value my sanity. I'll just have to get over her. She obviously doesn't hold much on our so-called friendship, so it's probably for the best if we just go back to being colleagues who tolerate each other though never talk civilly.

My heart aches at the memory of how it was once between us, the hostility, competition, and how relieved I was when we could finally thaw the ice.

And then, tonight I finally got what I wanted all along, or what I thought I'd wanted. A date, kissing, making love. I had actually felt a connection, which is stupid considering there obviously wasn't such a thing. She just needed to get laid.

I feel a sting in my heart from even thinking about her that way. I want so desperately to believe she is better than that, that I didn't give my heart to a cold hearted bitch. And I know that's not the case as I've seen another side of her. So maybe that is what makes it hurt so much, knowing that she isn't always like that, knowing that she has a warm and sweet and gentle side, only with me she chooses not to show it.

Which isn't entirely true, either. Thinking about it I remember several occasions on which she has in fact shown that side to me, stood up for me, looked out for me, even voiced her concern over my reaction towards certein cases -not that she'd gotten an answer.

However, tonight she didn't act that way. Tonight she was just out to get what she needed and then send me away. Or maybe she didn't.

After all, she was not the one to initiate that first kiss. She was not the one who left without a word. She truly did look genuine when she tried to apologize.

Damnit to hell. Why do I still defend her when all she does is hurt my feelings?

I'm such an idiot.

Leaning back I notice that the TV is still running. Nice distraction really, I totally managed to blend it out. And all because of Catherine.

That woman is a curse, poison, the devil incarnate.

And I still love her.


	27. Chapter 27

Catherine

"Hey Mom, how was your date?" Lindsay cheerfully greets me when she gets home. I'm not sure if she's teasing me or if she really thinks that Sara and me are dating.

I guess I'll go for option number one, it's unlikely Linds would be assuming any sort of _romance_ -whatever her perception of dating might be- between us. Considering I have never broached the topic of my sexual orientation with her she surely wouldn't suspect that of me.

"Mom? Where are you?" her hand is waving in my face. I sure have to stop zoning out in front of my daughter.

I placate her with a forced smile, telling her it was ok and that I apologized to Sara, which I think is what she wanted to hear.

Or maybe not, if the raised eyebrow is anything to go by. "Did you two fight or something?" her comment surprises me, is my child now developing the skill of mind reading?

Anyway, she is expecting an answer from me. Should I tell her the truth? Or do I lie to her? I opt for something in the middle.

"She accepted my apology and we talked some, but there's certain issues between us, we didn't really fight, we just agreed we need to sort these things out for ourselves."

She looks confused. I remember that when I was her age I thought everything adults came up with was confusing and complicated -how right I was.

"So, anyway...are you hungry?" I ask, effectively changing the topic. I'm feeling bad about Sara as it is, I don't need to talk about her now. I'll have to face her soon enough.

"Yeah, what's on the menu?" She asks and I point her in the direction of the cupboards. "Whatever you decide we can make out of this."

Rolling her eyes she grabs for a box of pasta and a jar of tomato sauce. I get out pots and set the water on boil. I'm feeling a little guilty for not cooking something "real" but ease my conscience with the fact that at least it isn't junk food.

While eating we spend some time talking, something I know to appreciate after the difficulties we've been having lately. She even goes as far as letting me in on the latest gossip from her friends, who is dating whom and who would rather be dating somebody else instead.

I can't help to notice though how carefully she avoids letting slip whom she herself would like to date -not that I'd ever let her. But fortunately, as far as I gather from her tales, dating still consists of going to an afternoon show at the movie's and holding hands in her book. I can only pray that it will stay like that for a while.

I was already looking forward to a whole uninterrupted afternoon with my daughter, but apparently she has other plans. She is going to meet with her best friend early, even though they are going to have a sleepover tonight anyway. So much for spending quality time with her mom.

I give Lindsay a ride over to her friend's house and kiss her good bye, pleasantly touched when she doesn't pull away. Once she disappears through the front door I try to convince myself they'll be playing dress up or dolls like they would do when they were eight, anything but talking about boys and make up. It's an illusion that is harder and harder to keep up with as the days pass and I have to watch her grow up.

I turn on the radio, needing to push those worries away before they drive me insane.


	28. Chapter 28

Sara

Coming to work today is nothing I've been looking forward to. The possibility of crossing paths with Catherine stirs the fear that I might lose it in front of her -and possibly the rest of the team.

But so far, lucky for me, I haven't spotted her yet. After all there is still an hour left until the official beginning of shift. Which is why I'm sitting here doing paperwork, unsuccessfully, as my mind is occupied with my hot blonde co-worker.

God, how I wish I could just hate her.

My unproductive file up-dating is interrupted when Grissom comes in with a new case for me to work on, he's asking me to leave right away and tells me he will send Nick to my assistance as soon as he arrives. Relieved that this will spare me a meeting with Catherine -at least for now- I quickly gather my things and head out.

Nick meets me about half an hour after my arrival at the scene and we work together in silence. I'm glad he isn't attempting to engage me in friendly conversations, I'm not in the mood to talk.

The only words spoken are musings and findings on the evident murder that has taken place in this house. That is until we are packing up and getting ready to drive back to the lab.

"Hey, Sara," He approaches me just as I slam shut the back of the S.U.V., "everything ok with you? You've been quiet all night."

"I'm fine" I mutter, squeezing by him to get to the drivers' side.

"Are you sure?" He asks as he catches my arm midway to the door handle. "Because I'm not too convinced."

While it's nice to know that someone cares about my state of distress, I really don't like the way he is pressuring me. Hence I'm getting defensive with him.

"Just leave it, Nick, ok? I told you I'm fine." His hand is still on my arm but his grip is loosening. "Just a bad day" I add for his benefit, hoping it will make him drop the topic.

Just when I think he's about to press on he releases his hold and smiles at me. "If your mood doesn't improve over the night, maybe you'd like to come out with me after shift, you know, get a beer, clear your head..." As if beer and a clear head wasn't a contradiction in itself. I smile. "Maybe" I say, while thinking "rather not".

Back at the lab we process our findings as I'm trying to dodge Nicks' cheerful attempts at smalltalk. I'm glad when I hear my beeper going off, alerting me that Hodges has results on some sticky white substance we collected from the scene.

The man makes a great deal of telling me not what exactly it is but how he found out and what all you can use it for. I rudely tell him I'm not in the mood for his effusive explanations and he grumpily tells me the substance was a special form of wax, probably not case related, but you'll never know.

Taking pity in his still crushed expression -he just can't handle being brushed off, a feeling I can just relate to- I manage to say "Thanks" and even smile at him.

The smile freezes though when out of nowhere Catherine comes storming into the lab. She's already in the middle of a rant along the lines of "What the hell is taking you so long, Hodges," and the "meaning of the word priority". I'm hoping her anger at the attacked lab tech makes her oblivious to my immediate escape but, as usual, there's no such luck. Having said her piece to Hodges she is following me into the hall.

"Sara, wait up." I continue my way back to the lab I've been working in. "Sara, can we talk for a moment?" I'd say my body language is telling her quite clearly "Hell no, we can not talk"

"Sara!" This time her hand on my arm is keeping me from walking further away.

I take a deep breath before I turn around and fix her with an angry glare.

"What?" I spit out.

"Would you come to my office for a minute? I don't think we should talk here" She says gesturing around the hall. It's currently vacated but we both know that could change any moment. One more reason to make this quick.

"Listen, Catherine. You got what you wanted, ok? So, there's nothing to talk about, just leave me the hell alone!" Please, go before I start crying.

"That's not true Sara and you know it." her voice is lowered and her body close enough for me to smell her, feel her.

"What do I know Catherine?" I ask, my voice harsh as to cover the tremble. "You lied to me, used me, and I let you. Now I'm done with you. Next time you need to get laid how about you go looking elsewhere? Maybe get hammered again, there's enough bars and clubs in this city, and with an ass like yours it shouldn't be too hard finding someone, don't you think?" I'm shocked that I'm actually saying what I'm saying. There's a look of hurt and shock crossing her face as well.

"You know what? Fuck you, Sara. I don't need that shit from you." With that she storms off.

Good thing, too. I don't know how long I could have contained myself from hurting her, physically.

Time passes as I'm standing in the hallway, trembling. Slowly the words are starting to sink in. I concentrate on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. "Sara?" I jump.

"Shit, Nick, do you have to creep up on me like that?" I say once I've realized it is him. "Sorry" he offers, "I was just wondering why it took you so long to get those results, I was afraid you'd be harming poor Hodges, with the mood you're in."

"Since when do you care about Hodges?" I gruffly retort, if only to steer the attention away from myself. Well, at least I'm not tearing up around him, I must still be too angry to be hurt.


	29. Chapter 29

Catherine 

_Ass like yours. Get hammered. _

Who the fuck does this woman think she is? And here I thought I was actually starting to like her. God, she's such a fucking... "Hey, hey, slow down there" A deep voice stops me in my tracks, cutting into my inner rant. It belongs to Warrick, who is eying me with a mix of concern and confusion.

"Not now," I tell him briskly, hoping for his own sake that he's going to leave me alone. He looks like he's going to call me on my mood but the glare I throw him makes him wisely back away. Storming into my office I slam the door before I let out a frustrated growl.

_Fuck you._

My retreat wasn't the kindest either. But she had it coming. "Yeah right, fuck you." I repeat loudly.

I should pull some strings and set that woman's head straight, she has no right to talk to me like that. Then again, I don't really feel like explaining the backdrop of our argument to Ecklie or Grissom, which means I have no other options than letting it slide. I guess I'll just avoid her from now on -if she doesn't do that herself.

Angrily I pull back my chair and slump down in it before sorting through the notes on my desk. Flinging the papers onto different stacks I manage to knock half of them to the floor. Great. As if my mood wasn't bad enough already. Seriously, I've never met a single person who could get me so worked up.

That arrogant little bitch, get what _I_ wanted? How does she know what _I _want? Wasn't it her initiating the whole thing? Kissing me? Fucking me? And how dare she call herself my _friend _and then throw those words at my head? Ignore me, annoy me, make me feel _guilty_. For what? She was the one who made things complicated, she was the one who brought her fucking _feelings _into this. _She._

Alright, Cath, pull yourself together, you're not a kid anymore. Breathe, deeply.

I shake my head and wonder, how did we get to this stage? Just a couple of weeks ago everything was fine. That fling we had, it was nice, it was hot, it was exciting.

Even that friendship arrangement was actually working for a while, not particularly well,but it was nice. And then we fucked it all up. Now I'm sitting here with nothing. It's not like I want to go back to having an affair with her, after everything that transpired between us I doubt we could ever go back to being intimate, passionate. Neither am I sure I'd still be intrested in a friendship, I don't think we could ever really open up to each other, never mind be friendly.

Still I know that, right now, whatever we have -or don't have- is far from being nice. And I don't like it. However I have no idea how to alleviate the tension, it's almost like we hate each other.

Well, maybe we do. Maybe we're just not capable of being anything but enemies, maybe we just need to keep the distance.

Maybe.


	30. Chapter 30

Sara

It's hard to believe but we've really made it through two and a half weeks without exchanging a single word. That's got to be a record, even for us. I was almost convinced we could be ignoring each other for the rest of our lives but of course the boss had to cross that plan. He assigned us together for tonight, much to our mutual protest, but he just told us to get over "whatever the issue is" and act professional. Hence here I sit, letting her drive as I silently contemplate the mess I'm in.

All of this wouldn't be a problem if I didn't still have these irrational feelings for her. It's so frustrating to be drawn to the one person who causes you so much heartache and agony.

She doesn't say a word, doesn't once look at me, and I sure as hell won't do anything to change that. The past weeks have been painful, yes, but I'm learning to deal with the cold separating us.

I've learned from my mistakes. I won't even try to be friendly with her, just look at where it led me the last time. I'll simply focus on the case, as I always do. And I'll bite down the hurt that is rattling my insides. Just stare ahead. Focus on the street, the buildings passing, cars, pedestrians, more cars and finally crime scene tape and flashlights.

Catherine pulls the vehicle into park and I don't wait for the engine to die down before I'm out of there. Breathing deeply, out here where the air smells of death instead of Catherine, I try to collect myself.

"You want the body?" she asks me, looking anywhere but at me. I nod, then quickly add "Yes." as she can't see my head, facing away.

She walks up to the detective on scene and I'm content to go and assess the victim.

Female, Caucasian, I.D. says Adrienne Conway, 28. She's badly bruised and I begin to take pictures from every angle. Deliberately slow I walk around the dead woman, noting down anything that springs to my mind about her posture and appearance. I know that part of this is the coroner's job but I feel like stalling for time, unwilling to encounter Catherine in search of other tasks.

Finally, after every fiber is secured, every inch photographed and every fluid swabbed, I walk back to where Catherine parked.

I load in the evidence and look around, spotting her struggling with both her kit and a large evidence bag. Without thought I move to her side and take the bag from her, only now noticing that she is carrying yet another. My action earns me a glare. Which in turn causes me to turn around and walk back.

I'm almost stopping dead in my tracks when I hear a soft "Thanks" from behind me. Overcoming my confusion I simply shrug and tell her I couldn't have risked the evidence scattering on the ground.

Now we've officially broken our week long silence, I don't really feel the difference. It's still awkward and unpleasant.

The driver's door closes seconds after mine does and, again wordlessly, Catherine starts the engine. I resume my pass-time of staring out the window. The same road we took on our way here, same buildings, different people, different cars. The familiar images of Vegas. And, after what seems like an eternity, the CSI headquarters.

I'm just about to exit when I hear the indistinct sound of the central door locking. What the fuck? Haven't we done this before?

I inhale deeply, ready to give her a piece of my mind when she opens her mouth.

"You really want things to stay like this?" Good question, do I? Well, it's certainly better than having my dignity crushed every step of my way.

"Fine, you want to keep up the silence, I can do that. Gives me more room to speak my mind."

"Speak your mind all you want, but let me out of here first." My words are harsh, I need them to be, or else I'd start giving in.

"No."

"No?" did she really just say no? "You can't lock me up in here, Cathrine. Let me out. Now." I want to sound threatening but I've got the feeling that I sound more like a frightened child.

"No, Sara. You don't have to talk to me, I can't make you, but the least you will do is listen." Wow, she sounds like my geography teacher from high school, except this is more serious than geography.

"Fine." I say, hoping it will get me out sooner, "But make it quick." I say and cross my arms defensively over my chest.


	31. Chapter 31

Catherine

I have no idea what I want to tell her, all I know is that we can't go on like this. I thought not interacting at all would give us both some time to breathe and think things over, however the cold shoulder we're giving each other is getting not just to us but it also effects the team. The guys are trying their best not to take sides, something I'm grateful for, but I don't know how long we can continue this. If only I knew how to start.

Beside me Sara is getting impatient, understandable as I'm keeping her trapped inside the car. She doesn't say anything though, just stares at me expectantly. I need to start off somewhere.

"Sara, the animosity between us interferes with our job. The guys are wondering what's going on. We're both adults, don't you think we should at least be able to act civil?"

There's nothing like approaching this on a professional and reasonable level. She doesn't seem to agree but refrains from answering. So I continue, slightly angered by her nonresponse.

"Alright, well, there's obviously a lot of tension between us and while you can ignore _me_ all you want, you can not ignore that tension. It's there." She blinks. "You'll have to deal with it, _we_ have to deal with it." She's still quiet. "We see each other almost every day, do you really believe you can leave everything the way it is right now? Because you can't honestly expect me to believe you're happy with it." My voice is louder by now, and Sara sits there so frustratingly silent that I'm tempted to smack her up the head just to make her react. My rant seems to sink in though, at least she appears to be deeply into her own contemplation. I can only hope she is willing to cooperate and find a way to fix this.

I challenge her with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you expect from me Catherine?" she finally asks, staring directly into my face "Do you think I can just pretend nothing ever happened between us? Do you think I can just turn off my feelings? Do you really think I wouldn't have tried that?" Her downright honesty shocks me, I expected defensiveness, lashing out, denial, anything but a confession. How do I react to that? It's not that what she says is unexpected, I suspected her to have feelings for me, but for her to just admit to it? That sure as hell caught me off guard.

"Can I go now?" She asks in a quiet voice. It doesn't feel right to let her go with everything still practically unresolved but I don't want to chance an argument. Waving a hand I unlock the doors and wait for her to exit the car. Though not before telling her "Sorry." For what exactly I can't say, I think there is a lot to apologize for.

She merely nods then slams the door.

Well, at least I tried.


	32. Chapter 32

Sara

How stupid can a single person be? I can't believe that I told Catherine, right into her face, that I have feelings for her.

I've got the impression that somehow my revelation shocked myself more than her, I guess I've been more obvious than I should have been, hell, she probably enjoyed the whole thing immensely, knowing I had feelings for her. Maybe I'm going to far with this, it's unjust, she isn't that calculating, or is she?

Either way, she did have a point with the things she said. It doesn't matter how much I'm trying to ignore the tension, the more I push her away the more evident it becomes. It's just impossible to suppress. And it is effecting our work when we behave like petulant teens around each other. As much as I hate to admit it, she is right. We are both adults. We need to sort this out.

In order to do so I know I'll have to talk to her, if only to find some sort of a solution, something we can both live with. We can't risk messing up our cases over this situation.

On a personal note, the past days have been unpleasant for me as well. Therefore I do want to at least be able to built up a relationship with Catherine that allows me be nice to her, exchange more than looks across the hallway or the break room table.

Making up my mind I come to a decision: It doesn't matter that she's hurt me, it doesn't matter that I let her. I can't see her everyday and be completely ignored, much as I can't go on pretending she isn't there, isn't constantly on my mind. Nothing can be worse than these last days.

She did say sorry after all, whether she meant it or not, she took a step towards me. She made an effort. Now it's my turn. Even if she hurts me again, even if I let her again, this time I'll be brave enough to face it. Nothing can be as painful as the past two weeks of cold stares and ignorance.

All I need now is for my determination to last until I am ready to face her. Which will be soon, seeing as we are working the same case. I glance at my vibrating pager..."Think of the devil" I mumble to myself when I read the message.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I step into the layout room where Catherine told me to meet her with the pictures I've taken at the scene.

She's standing with her back facing the entry way, allowing me a moment of watching her unnoticed. She's sorting files and objects on the table, I can just imagine the slight frown on her face as she is trying to make sense of them. She's cute when she does that. And I need to stop thinking like that.

I quickly clear my throat before any more inappropriate adjectives spring to my mind, such as hot, sexy, beautiful, gorgeous, dangerous...She smiles at me. Apprehensively I make my way into the room.

"Ah...about earlier." I start before all the courage leaves me. "I, um..." Or my ability to speak.

"You don't have to say anything, I get it. I went too far, I...let's just get started on the case, ok?"

"Ok" I echo dumbly. I would say more but my mind is suddenly all blank. Alright, I chide myself, focus.

The Case. A woman, beaten to death. She sure deserves more attention than my fucked up non-relationships.

I look down at my pictures. They're definitely priority.

I look up at Catherine.

Damn.


	33. Chapter 33

Catherine

"Catherine?"

"Yes?"

"You were right." Now, that's a new one. Slightly bewildered I glance up at her.

"I was?" It's a dumb question but she seriously has me confused here. In answer she shrugs.

"Yeah...about being adults and talking civilly..." She looks like there's a whole lot else she needs to get out but when she's silent for long seconds I assume that she isn't ready to say more. So I decide to break the silence.

"I'm glad you think so." I reply, and I really am. This may mean we can break the strained atmosphere between us. It would help a lot though if the awkward quiet wouldn't be settling upon us again.

But it's her turn, she restarted the topic, I've already apologized, now it's up to her.

Nothing.

I'm about to focus back on the evidence, taking it she feels the issue is closed, when she suddenly starts up again.

"Do you think we can start over?" That's a tough question, I must admit. I honestly don't know if that's possible, however I'd like to try.

"Ok," I answer shortly, "Where do you think we should begin?" With everything that went wrong between us I'd say we'd have to start up at the very beginning.

She looks confused. And, again, refrains from talking. I guess it's my up to me then.

"Alright...so, how about we pretend all those shitty things didn't happen, we could just have breakfast together when shift is over and I don' know...talk some." Why do I feel like we've been here before? I'm not very confident it will work this time around but I'm honestly willing to give it a shot. Unsure of what else to say I smile at her, hoping to encourage an answer.

"I, uh..." nervously she plays with the edge of her notepad lying on the table in front of her. She seems to be arduously searching for the right words. I'm overcome by the strange need to calm her, she looks pitifully uncomfortable but I doubt that laying my hand on her arm will be all that soothing for her.

"I don't want to pretend that none of that happened." she blurts out quickly and I'm doing a double take. What the hell?

"You see, you already acknowledged this _tension_ as you called it. It's there, it will always remind me of what happened between us, I can't just erase that from my memory." She looks at her hands before quietly adding "And I don't want to."

I bite my lip to avoid the sigh that's threatening to escape. Why isn't anything ever not complicated with this woman?

"What do you intending to do now?" I ask, trying not to sound annoyed. She shrugs. Great.

"Sara, listen. I can offer you as much as a promise to be your friend, I won't hurt you again, at least not intentionally. But..."

"But what, Catherine?" she interjects "You were the one who arranged the whole date and all that, don't tell me you weren't enjoying yourself because I could tell you were. Why, ...why don't we just try that again? I'm not asking of anything from you, just..." I interrupt before she can dig herself further in, she can't surely be so insane?

"Sara, stop this." She looks hurt. No surprise there. "I told you before, I care about you even if I haven't done a great job showing you. I do. That's why I'm completely honest with you now. I like you, it was fun being with you, it was nice but that's all there was to it. I'm sorry that I've mislead you with that dinner, I'm sorry for not stopping you afterwards." she watches my rant with an intense expression.

"I can't do this." I tell her as I look her straight into the eyes. "You have these feeling, Sara, and I don't. I wish I did because that would make things easier. But with the way things are I just cannot start a relationship with you. You have to understand that. I don't want to cause you any more pain." From the look in her eyes that is what I'm doing though. Gently I reach out for her arm. "I don't love you, Sara, I don't think I ever will. That doesn't mean I don't care. Or that I'm not attracted to you. But it's the reason I can't do _this._" I motion between us, unsure of how to label it.

She just stares at me. Softening my tone I make sure she hears what I tell her by searching her gaze again. "You deserve better, Sara."

She's swallowing hard and I assume she's fighting tears, at least her eyes are glistening. She clears her throat.

"What, ...what if I don't care?" I shake my head. The desperation in her dark eyes is breaking my heart. It hurts to know that I'm the reason for her pain but I doubt I could take it away. I feel trapped. How do I make her understand?

"Sara, this is not the right place to discuss our relationship." I say in order to buy some time, I'm tired of running in circles with her.

"Let's finish our case and then, if you want to, we can find a quiet place and talk."

It's the least I can offer, it's _all_ I can offer at the moment. And we really need to work. Her eyes wander all across the room to finally settle on the pictures she brought. Her brow furrows in concentration. Her breathing is even, she seems calm.

"There's a bare patch inside the pool of blood, a weird shape, it's too small for a knife or any other weapon. Any idea what could have caused this?" She's back to business so quickly I almost don't catch up. Taking a step closer to her I lean over to examine the image she's pointing at, wrecking my mind for any possible object that might fit into the empty space of the bloodstain.


	34. Chapter 34

Sara

Having her tell me to the face that she doesn't love me hurts. But it isn't unexpected.

Begging her to try despite of that is stupid and being rejected hurts even more.

But loving her and restricting myself from any contact, avoiding her and being avoided, that is what is unbearable.

Now that is where I am, in the midst of my dilemma. Offering her my heart and what's left of my dignity. And she tells me I deserve better. The thing is, who could be better than the person I love? Irritatedly I shake my head. I'm nuts.

However, staring at her hands, while she is sorting out the pictures we've laid out on the table I find myself mesmerized.

We haven't talked for a while, both preoccupied with the details of our case, or at least she is. My own thoughts occasionally wander off to her. Especially in the past couple of minutes when she didn't ask questions to direct me back to the evidence. Silence really isn't good for my concentration. It never has been, I always found it easier to focus when I had something -or someone- to keep my mind from drifting. Hence, when I'm alone I start humming in order to stay focused. Only in this case I am not alone. So my thoughts do drift. And again I find myself wondering why I am putting myself in this position.

Catherine made it more than clear that she doesn't want me the way I want her. I should just accept it and move on. I've done that before, many times, just not with someone I worked with. Not with someone I felt so strongly about. Not with _her._

"Hey, see that?" Catherine asks, abruptly bringing me back to the present. She points to the clothes she's examining. Taking a closer look I discover dark fibers on the knee of the woman's pants, most likely belonging to our killer.

"She might have kicked him in defense." I muse. We smile at each other when we realize we have the same thoughts about our evidence, a first possible clue. "Yeah, hopefully somewhere painful." Catherine adds making me smirk at the remark.

We work through the rest of the items more enthusiatically from there on, mostly in comfortable semi-silence. I realize how much I've missed working with her. Unaffected by the personal differences that often times cause us to clash we are a great team when it comes to solving murders and mysteries. I just love the way her brain works. And I love that she understands mine.

So why is it that we don't relate emotionally? It's a question I have asked myself a lot, especially over the last couple of weeks. And I haven't come up with a suitable answer so far.

I'm once again interrupted when I hear a distinct growl next to me. "Hungry?" I smirk as Catherine's cheeks turn a cute shade of red. "A little" she admits.

"You should go grab a bite then" I advise her, while I write down notes on the bags we've been sorting through. She doesn't make a move to leave, instead grabs the pen from my hand.

"You haven't eaten in at least as long as I haven't." she states, leaving no room for me to argue -not that it stops me from trying. "I'm not hungry, I'll just finish this." My hand is already midway to hers, attempting to get back the pen she took. Then, for the briefest of moments our fingers touch and I feel a shiver run through me at the contact. Holy hell, I'm in trouble.

Catherine looks up at me, surprised, challenging, I can't really place her expression but I do detect the dangerous gleam in her eyes. God, her gaze is intense. Her lips are so very inviting, parting, moving. Shit, she's talking to me.

Her eyebrow is raised. I bet she just asked me something.

"Come on." She says, already dragging me along with her. What the fuck? On reflex I pull my arm from her grasp. Still, I follow her out. Damn, that ass of hers works like a magnet.

She throws a glance back over her shoulder and asks where I'd like to go for food. _Your bedroom. _Lucky for me I can suppress those words from escaping my mouth. I quickly clear my throat and force out "Wherever you want to go." My mind is already on overdrive again.

What is she after now? Does she think dragging me to a lunch break in the middle of a case is the right occasion for a talk? Or is she really just doing this for the food? If not, what the hell do I tell her without making a further fool of myself?

I sigh and jog along after her, catching up in time to hold the door open for her. I'm an idiot, I know. But I can't help it, she just brings out the worst in me.


	35. Chapter 35

Catherine

The wait for our breakfast is a quiet affair. Sara's eyes dart around the diner uncomfortably while mine are fixed on her. Watching, observing. And I wonder where this will go. If she doesn't say anything soon we won't have that talk at all because I've said all that I needed to say.

Several minutes strike by and I start looking around for the waitress, as if that action would hurry her up.

"I'm sorry." Taken aback I lift my gaze up to Sara, not sure whether she really said what I believe I heard. My confusion must be showing on my face as she immediately provides me with an explanation.

"After that argument, in the lab, you apologized. I've done some thinking and it occurred to me that I haven't. But my words weren't really flattering and that's something I'm sorry for." She looks at me. All I manage to say is "Okay". That was certainly unexpected.

The waitress brings our plates, saving me from having to elaborate and I throw her a grateful smile.

"So, where do we go from here?" Sara asks as soon as we are alone again. Shrugging I stir my coffee with the spoon. "Where do you want to go from here?" I counter, after all, I did say I wanted to give her a chance.

She looks at me with that scrutinizing intensity. It's all the answer I need.

"I told you, I can't." Leaning back I try to put some more distance between us. She needs to understand this, once and for all. "Sorry," she whispers, shying from my gaze. Great, now were back to awkward.

"Listen," I try to get through to her, "let's go again at the friendship, okay? It wasn't that bad now, was it?" lighten the mood, way to go.

She gives me that famous half smirk of hers and I'm relieved to see I'm at least amusing her. "Didn't really work though." She smiles with a hint of regret in her voice.

"It's all I can offer you, Sara." I say as gently as I can. "This time around let's play with open cards. We should give it a try. It's better than what we did before, isn't it?" I'm not sure who I am trying to convince at this point but if she believes in my words maybe I can too.

"I don't know if I can do it, Catherine." she admits weakly. "But I'd like to try" she adds a few breaths later. We should be able to work from here on.

"It's settled then." Strangely I don't feel very happy about that solution. It would help if she didn't look so fuckin sexy with that shy smile on her face. I definitely need to dispose of my attraction to her. If I give in again I might break her for good, and contrary to what most people think of me, I'm not a cold hearted bitch. And I'll stick to my promise. I won't hurt her again. Now I really hope she'll play by the rules and won't tempt me.

"So..." We speak up simultaneously, causing us both to chuckle. It's relieving, even if there's still a tense atmosphere hanging in the air. I don't believe our current case will provide great conversation but at least it would allow for talking instead of strained silence.

The moment I open my mouth to speak Sara beats me to it. "Ah, how's Lindsay?" she asks, making me smile. Definitely a better topic than work, even if I'm fairy certain she's asking primarily because that was the first -and only- topic that sprang to her mind.

Anyway, I'm happy to tell her about Linds. Even if she's still nursing her growing attitude, I'm proud of my little girl and I gladly share that feeling. I wonder whether it would be a good idea to let Sara know that Linds has been asking about her. They have a strange connection, even if they've only met a couple of times. They both speak fondly of each other. Sara seems genuinely interested in my daughter, I doubt that she's just pretending that out of politeness. Still I'm apprehensive about supporting their bonding, I want to maintain our burgeoning friendship but including my daughter would be too much at the time. I need to know that we will actually succeed in this for a while before I'll let her get that close.

Sara's pager goes off, interrupting our conversation. She smiles, telling me there's results on the fibers we dropped off in trace before we left. Paying the tab we quickly gather our belongings and head back to the lab.

Hours pass and we are again a few steps closer to solving our case. Shift has been over for a while now and I decide it's time to go home and catch a bit of sleep before coming back and continuing. Sara argues that she'd like to stay but would be okay if I left to see Lindsay when she gets home from school. I sigh. She's incorrigible.

"Go home, get some sleep." I tell her, trying my best not to sound too much like a mom, which is hard seeing how I am just that. I cut in before Sara can finish the obligatory "I'm fine".

"Get some rest, Sara. You can come in early if you can't help yourself but you need to actually leave this place every once in a while." I don't want to set off an argument so I soften my tone when I continue. "We'll have a lot to do next shift, I want you rested. Please." I add, batting my eyelashes a little, I'm well aware of the effect my expression will have on her. I feel bad for using her feelings for me against her but it's the only way I can guarantee she complies. And she looks like she needs the sleep.

She stares at me for a while, me holding her glare until her eyes soften and she mumbles something that sounds like "As you mean."

Shit, she's really got it bad.


	36. Chapter 36

Sara

I am bored. Lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling I start counting the tiny pieces of fluff floating through my bedroom, -I'm quickly losing count.

I should sleep, I know, but I don't feel tired. I'd rather have stayed at the lab but Catherine had to go all pretty-eyes on me, ordering me to get home. Said she needed me rested. Great. Now here I am, far from getting rest as my mind is preoccupied yet again with it's favorite topic: Beautiful, strong willed, passionate, sexy as hell Catherine Willows.

I close my eyes with a sigh, reliving the many nights of wild passion, the sounds, the visuals, the smell of Catherine. I find myself growing wet and frustrated.

It feels as if hours pass until I finally drift off -only to have the same images from my memories mingle in a dream of even higher intensity.

I wake sweating. This isn't pretty anymore. I'm not sure whether I should laugh at my pathetic-ness or cry over it.

A friend of mine once told me that a woman who can't appreciate what I have to offer isn't worth the trouble. I contemplate introducing her to Catherine, I'm almost convinced she'd change her mind.

Dammit. I need to grow up and quit acting like a love-sick teenager. Seriously, what's so special about Catherine Willows?

Granted, she's beautiful, but so are hundredth of other women out there. She's smart, fiery, ambitious and tough, which is a good mix but nothing unique. And honestly, most of the time she is just getting on my nerves with her huge case of attitude. Yeah, that's Catherine. Annoying, stubborn, conceited and starving for attention. All attributes I've always detested in a woman. Nothing I could truly be in love with.

So, maybe I've merely been blinded with her presence. Her face, her body, her radiance, the way she seems to own the world. It's like she's casting a spell over every person laying eyes on her, you can't help being bewitched. In the end that means I've been fooled by my own senses. I've never loved her. And I am certainly not in love with her now.

Wow. That was almost too easy, surprisingly, I'm feeling vaguely convinced. Now if I can survive our next encounter at the lab I might just be able to become a sane person again.

Freshly showered and with a decent meal in my stomach I drive to work. It's early but there was nothing to do for me at home. The strange feeling of a weight lifted from me is still settling over me. I think I might actually be able to solely concentrate on my case. Well, Catherine and mine case.

Time is passing fast when I am indulging in work. Humming to myself I proceed to finish where we have left off in the morning and am startled when I hear the sharp voice of Catherine announcing her presence.

"Hey." I smile in greeting only to be met with a smile of her own. Ok, breathe deeply. You're not in love with her, I remind myself, it's just some evil powers radiating from her.

"Doc paged me, he's got autopsy results, join me?" She asks, sounding eerily happy. I make a mental note to find out what's got her in such a great mood while already trailing behind her on the way down to the morgue.

Walking through the halls I fill her in on my findings of the last couple of hours. Should the autopsy confirm our suspicions we might just have enough evidence to justify a warrant, that is once we have a suspect. I do however have faith in us finding one, after all we are a great team.

I hold the swing door to the morgue open and let her enter the chilly room to meet up with Doc Robbins.

As it turns out I was right. By the end of the night we have a potential suspect and we're on our way to have him arrested -okay, so Brass is with us to get him arrested. But we have a warrant for his house, which probably means overwork seeing as there is only a little over an hour to our shift.

Catherine has turned on the radio and is trying hard not to sing along. I smirk at the way she is focusing on keeping her lips sealed, it's rather entertaining to watch.

"What?" Catherine snaps suddenly as she becomes aware of my amused glances.

"Huh?" I feign innocence. It's not like I was laughing at her.

"You're making fun of me." she accuses. I snort, "No, I'm not." "What do you call it then, watching me with that smirk on your face?"

How do I get out of this safely? Think, Sara. "Well?" she prompts.

"I..." damn... "You've been fighting the urge to sing along."

"I wasn't." I grin, "You were." Who knew arguing with Catherine could be so much fun? Usually it's much more serious.

"Shut it, Sidle." she grinds out while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Giving in already?" I tease. She's been in a good mood all night so I deem it relatively safe to continue.

"Are we almost there?" Quickly checking our surroundings, I tell her it'll approximately be another ten to fifteen minutes before we reach our goal -not that she couldn't have calculated that herself.

"That was a very weak attempt at changing the topic" I grin only to have her roll her eyes and tell me to grow up.

After another few minutes of harmless squabble we pull up in front of the suspect's house where Brass' vehicle is already parked at the sidewalk. Stepping up to the front door we set out to take a look at the inside of the suspect's home, intent to find evidence to nail that guy for murder.


	37. Chapter 37

Catherine 

After quickly assessing the house to get an overview Sara and I assign ourselves to the different rooms and start searching the untidy place systematically.

Sorting through the man's bedroom my thoughts drift back to the conversation we had on the way over. It makes me smile. I don't know what it is but something must have happened with Sara, she is more light hearted than I've seen her in a long time.

Just days ago I would have deemed a friendly conversation impossible, let alone the teasing.

I'm grateful for the change in atmosphere, I really am, still I can't help thinking that maybe she isn't really honest with herself. Knowing her I suspect the humor to be a mask, something to conceal her pain, some sort of denial she wants herself to believe.

But wouldn't that be arrogant of me? To think I'm so irresistible that a healthy young woman can't overcome her crush on me?

Well, not if it was more than just a crush, my inner voice argues.

Closing the last of the drawers, I let out a frustrated sigh. I'm not sure if it's for Sara or for the fact I came up empty-handed with the bedroom. There's nothing but strewn clothes and dirty magazines in here.

Moving on to the bathroom I catch a glimpse of Sara across the corridor. She's bending over a cluttered desk. Damn, that ass of hers is way too enticing. After everything that happened I shouldn't still be lusting after her. I shouldn't be staring at her. No, wait. _She _shouldn't be bending over like that.

Suddenly she straightens and turns her gaze at me.

"Hey, got anything useful?" I quickly speak as not to cause suspicion.

"No, not so far. You?" I shake my head.  
"Nothing, I mean, can you believe it? There's not a single shirt or other item of clothing that could match the fibers from the vic's jeans. In all the clutter he got in there!"

"Don't worry, if there's something we'll find it" She smiles, making me wonder where her optimism originates from. I play along though for the sake of positive thinking.  
"Yeah, never doubted that" And in all honesty, that's true. If there's anything to be found, Sara and I will find it. We always do.

That's not to say our fellow CSI's wouldn't, but there's something about cases I work on with her. It's probably the underling competition. I've observed a similar pattern with Nick and Warrick. The difference being that they usually don't get as caught up in it as Sara does.

And when she is putting everything into a case I feel obliged to do the same. And that leads to us indeed being one of the best teams in our department.

"Hey, Cat, can you come over for a minute?" my head snaps up at the sound of her voice. Walking over I stand near the desk.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, really. But it could be a lead," she says cryptically while pointing to a crunched up peace of paper. Reading it's inscriptions I look up at her. "A flyer for the old clothes collection?" I ask incredulously. She can't be serious.

"You mean you consider it possible the guy killed a woman and gave his clothes, most likely blood stained, away for charity?"

She shrugs.

"Why not? There was nothing in the trash around his house, plus, it's the last place anyone would suspect it. Even if someone saw the stains, they'd never be able to tell where the clothes came from."

It's almost scary how her imagination sets off with just a tiny piece of paper. I shake my head.

"I think it's worth a shot." she says, already dialing the number that is printed on the pamphlet.

Raising her brow as if to say "got any better ideas" her lips curl into a smirk when I signal defeat with my expression.

Half an hour later finds us on the way to a social organization. So much for not pulling a double.

"These are the collections of the last 3 days." an elderly lady informs us, pointing to a huge container. "They haven't been sorted through. Over there," she points to a second container, "are the piles of sorted donations, they're organized into shirts, trousers, skirts, dresses and shoes, mainly."

Sensing that there is a lot of information she would love to entertain us with I quickly thank her and promise to call her should we need help.

Sara shoots me a grateful smile once the woman has left and we go about searching through the piles.

"You know, if we come up empty handed you owe me a drink for this." I tell her, stretching my back and yawning.

"Why?" she retorts. "It's not like I forced you to come along."

If it wasn't for the smirk on her face I'd be telling her off for this but now I'm actually relieved at the playful banter. The masses of old clothing are starting to annoy me.

"Watch it, Sidle." I simply say. "Next thing you owe me breakfast with those drinks."


	38. Chapter 38

Sara

Is she flirting with me?

And why is my heart beating like a jackhammer? Dammit, I'm over this for crying out loud.

Ok, breathe. Damn her for sporting that cocky grin, she's obviously unaware of what she's saying there. Or maybe she enjoys it.

"If it turns out I was right _you'll _be the one owing _me_ a drink." I croak, coming off a lot less confident than I would have liked.

"Why, Sidle, are you flirting with me?" She grins, brow raised, in her patented sexy stance. Fuck. Am I?

I can already feel the color flooding my face. I'm tempted to tell her to fuck off, to stop the hell teasing me. But that would be highly unprofessional. And pathetic too.

So I keep quiet. Not the best course of action either.

Catherine apparently senses it's best to back away, at least she doesn't say anymore when she returns to the clothes.

I'm starting to think this was a bad idea. The minutes drag on in silence and once again I have nothing to distract my mind from analyzing what out little might-have-been flirt means.

The fluttering in my stomach is definitely not a good sign. I've been there and it turned out bad. But how the hell do I dispose of those proverbial butterflies? They're fucking persistent.

"Anyone ever tell you you're a genius?" Where the hell did that come from? Turning around with a confused expression already plastering my face I suddenly grin when I see what Catherine is holding in her hands. A yellow shirt, the same color as the fibers we found. And to top that off, a nicely brown encrusted blood stain on the front.

I feel a rush of confidence as I smirk at her. "Told you we'd find it."

"Yeah." she states as she bags the shirt and steps back from the rest of the clothing. "So, that drink is on me, it seems. Just not today, I'm tired as hell." Is she serious? She really wants to buy me a drink?

"Come on, lets drop this off at the lab and get home." What? I'm still hung up on that drinking offer. I was joking when I said that, right? I can't possibly get drunk with her again, not even tipsy. Who knows what could happen? I'm by far not ready for a repeat performance of last time.

"Sara?" A jolt shoots through me when her hand comes down on my bare arm.  
I think I'm stuttering something along the lines of "I'm fine."

The ride back is quiet. I'm glad that I'm driving, it gives me a perfect excuse to stare ahead and avoid looking at Catherine. I'm sure I'd turn beet red if I met her eyes. This crush I'm supposedly over is returning full force and I feel like a frigging high school kid.

After an seemingly endless ride we at last arrive at the lab. I was starting to get really uncomfortable even though Catherine chatted on about Lindsay, something that thankfully distracted me from the disturbing thoughts of kissing her senseless in the backseat. Not that the thought itself was disturbing, but just the fact that it would end in an embarrassing heartbreaking situation -again. Something I'm not ready for.

I offer to log in the evidence so Catherine can get home faster, after all she only has very few hours left until her daughter is coming home. She smiles at me in thanks when she says her goodbye and turns in the direction of the locker room. My knees actually feel shaky as I watch her walk away. I've rarely ever felt so pathetic.

An hour later I'm finally at home where I force myself into a cold shower, hoping it will erase thoughts of Catherine from my mind. That works for as long as the cold shock is wrecking my body, then the beautiful blond goddess quickly finds her way right back into my imagination.

After the futile attempt of reading forensic magazines as a distraction I finally give into the need for rest. Tossing and turning it feels like hours in which I lay open eyed before eventually sleep claims me.

Unsurprisingly I wake a few hours later to tangled sheets and the remnants of a dream I don't quite remember yet I am certain Catherine was a part of. Great. Now on to another shift, working with the woman I just can't seem to push from my conscious. And then there's still a possible invitation for drinks that my head tells me to decline but my my heart is already jumping for joy over.

What a messed up way to start the day.


	39. Chapter 39

Catherine 

I arrive for shift with a good hour to spare. Lindsay has been begging me to let her stay at a friend overnight and I let her. That has me wondering if I'm a bad mother, passing her off like that. I calm my guilty conscience by telling myself that that wasn't my intent. She's been wanting to go, I'd be a bad mom if I said no instead.

Deep in thoughts I'm slightly startled by a voice announcing somebody's arrival.

"Hey, rumor has it you and Sara get along again?" It's Warrick, greeting me as he comes sauntering into the locker room.

"Who told you that?" I ask, smiling to indicate it's not just a rumor and therefore a safe topic.

"Word gets around." he smirks mysteriously, "but I'm glad it's true."

"Yeah, me too."

I haven't told Warrick about the whole issue of Sara and me, and I'm not sure I want to do that now. Still it feels good being able to tell him things are looking up. He does notice things after all.

"So how's the case coming along?" he asks.

I'm in the middle of answering when Sara enters the room. She greets us quickly, then puts her bag into her locker and tells me she'll get last night's evidence before leaving as quickly as she came.

"What was that?" Warrick asks sceptically. To be honest I have no idea. It's normal for her to be short-cut but this still felt strange.

In answer to Warrick's question I merely shrug my shoulders.

"That was Sara."

"Are you sure everything's ok between you?"

"Yes, damnit." I force out a lot harsher than necessary. "How come every time that girl is moody it is automatically _my_ fault?"

He wisely doesn't answer that.

I feel bad for exploding at him but Sara's little appearance has me boiling again. Seriously, what is wrong with that woman? By the end of last shift she was joking with me and now she cannot even spare a proper greeting?

Warrick's hand on my arm brings me from my inner rant.

"You ok?" His eyes sparkle with concern which makes me bite down the comment I had ready to fire off. A simple "yeah." will have to do.

"You know where to find me." He says before walking away.

I slam my locker shut with more force than I should and take a deep breath.

Whatever Sara's issues are today, I'm not taking her shit. With determined strides I make my way to the lab.

"Hey." I greet her curtly again when I walk into the room. She merely nods and starts rambling about the clothes. Whatever.

We work in silence. Like we always do. I don't know why it should feel different than usual but it does.

Twenty minutes and I can't stand it anymore. Quiet is nice, but being ignored isn't. I thought we were past this.

"Listen, Sara. If you got a problem with me, say so."

"What?" Her expression mirrors her words perfectly. Interesting. Maybe she's really as clueless as she wants to appear. She never gives much thought to the way she acts around people.

"Are you ignoring me again?"

"What?" She repeats herself, finally putting down her test tube and turning her body towards me.

"You barely greeted me and haven't spoken since we started working. Did I miss something? Are we back to ignoring each other?"

She sighs, looks down and entwines her fingers.

"I wasn't ignoring you" Right. Why do I bother again? I knew she would say that.

"Fine then. I found some grain here, I'll take it to trace."

From the corner of my eye I can see the trademark look of dumbfound-Sara. It's strange how I once thought it was cute. It's annoying. That's what it is.


	40. Chapter 40

Sara 

What the hell was that? I'm used to Catherine's mood swings by now, but leaving in the middle of an argument? Well, maybe this wasn't a full blown argument yet, but still. I shake my head.

What is her problem?  
Oh, right. She thought I was ignoring her. But was I? No. And even if I were, why would that get her so worked up?

I decide it's for the better not to dwell on that too much. Who knows, in the end I'd come up with the solution that she actually likes me and is hurt by the sheer possibility of having me ignore her.

Ah, hell. It's probably just her pride being scratched. Nothing to be worried about.

And anyways, what's taking her so long? She went to the trace lab a good twenty minutes ago. Now, who's the one ignoring whom?

Whatever. I'm tired of being preoccupied with the weird antics of Catherine Willows. I'll just go about my work like I'm supposed to. Not like there's all that much to do, but I still got to compare some the fibers, even if they're a visual match and stained in blood.

A knock on the door frame catches my attention. It's Warrick, smiling his casual smile as he enters the lab.

"Hey, how's it going?" He asks, his look making me wonder whether he's asking about the case or something else.

I decide to tread on safer ground and answer for the first.

"Nothing much to do here until we get results from trace. Catherine found something and took it to Hodges," I glance at my wrist watch, "like 40 minutes ago."

"What's up with you two?"

Okay, so he really wasn't talking about the case. I feign ignorance, muster a confused look and say "Nothing." I'm nowhere near comfortable enough to tell him - or anyone else - about the feelings I'm so desperately trying not to have.

"Don't bullshit me, Sara," he pushes and takes a seat next to me. "You two are so tense around each other, that can't be healthy." No, I guess it isn't.

"I'm worried about you." I'm trying to be angry with him. For pointing it out, for not leaving me alone. I want to tell him to mind his own business. But the honest concern in his eyes make the words die in my throat.

"I can see there's more that working competition and disagreements between you. I've held my tongue for a while, thought you'd be mature enough to figure it out, but..." he trails off. Is he saying this is my fault? His voice is too soft to be accusing, but his words sting.

"There's nothing" I feebly try to defend myself. As if he hasn't seen through me already.

The thought scares me. Every time in my life someone is getting close to figuring me out I end up hurt. I can't let him in on my secrets.

"Are you sure? You don't happen to like her a little more than you let on, maybe?" His words come as a shock. How does he know? And what is he trying to achieve by confronting me with them? At work of all places.

"It's okay, Sara. Just between the two of us."

I swallow. It's not like I don't trust him. Or doubt that he truly cares. But I've never been one for a heart-to-heart, he's not going to turn me around.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm putting pressure on you. This is not the best place to talk about personal stuff," his hand grazes the side of my upper arm. "Just find me if you need to get it off your chest."

He rises with a sigh and the smallest of smiles. And I surprise myself by nodding my head at him.

"Thanks." I croak, and if it wasn't for the lack of other people I'd deny that it was me who spoke.

I can't possibly ever confide in Warrick. Especially not about the crap that is Catherine and my non-relationship. He's like her best friend.

Suddenly a thought occurs to me. Maybe _she _sent him to me, to pump me for information, make sure I still _want _her, that I'm not _ignoring_ her.

I think I'm getting paranoid, surely Catherine wouldn't... That would be silly, cowardly. No, she surely wouldn't use him like that.


	41. Chapter 41

Catherine

"Your tiger in a cage impersonation is getting on my nerves."

My head snaps up and I glare angrily at Hodges. He just smirks that snarky smirk of his and returns back to his samples.

"I'll take a while, you don't have to wait here." He pushes on, evidently trying to kick me out of his lab. Not that I really favor his company, but right now I have nowhere else to go. And I definitely don't feel like joining Sara back in the other lab.

I interrupt my pacing and take a second to think. I can't believe how stupid I'm acting. Lingering around in a room with Hodges just because I'm hiding from Sara. Well, not hiding. But I'm trying to avoid being alone with her. I shake my head.

"Page me." I tell the lab tech before walking away. Not knowing where else to go I make my way into my office and sit down at the computer. Might as well get some paperwork done while I'm waiting for the trace results.

Not long after I've gotten started my concentration is broken by a knock on my door. I hope it's not Sara asking where I am. I instantly laugh at myself for the thought. Sara shouldn't be the first thing that springs to my mind in any given situation.

To my relief it is Warrick who enters my office. He takes a seat opposite of me before I even get the chance to gesture for him to do so.

"What's going on with you and Sara? And don't say 'nothing'." Wow, he means business.

I must look pretty silly right now but I can't seem to make the stunned expression go away.

"It's none of your concern." I tell him briskly. I don't mean to be rude with him but I've had enough of Sara. The mere mention of her name is pissing me off.

"It is, Catherine. I care about you. I've sat back for a long time, but the atmosphere is making this lab a very unfriendly place. And that's got a lot to do with you and Sara."

He doesn't let go. Somewhere in the back of my brain I know that he is right. Still I'm nowhere near ready to admit that.

"Catherine..." He urges on with his no-nonsense face. I know that he can see right through me. People always say my eyes give away how I feel. I sigh. He might be right. No, he's definitely right. I should just get it off my chest.

"I slept with her."

Warrick stares at me in shock.

"What?" I have to smile despite the situation. "Didn't think I'd have it in me?"

"No...yes, I mean, how did that happen?" he asks in astonishment, a hundred more questions lingering behind his words, wanting to be answered.

I guess I better start at the beginning. I take in a deep breath and sit up a little straighter.

"We had this _thing _going on for a while," I try to explain. If only I knew what else to call it. Across the desk Warrick just nods for me to continue.

"It was a sexual thing..." trying my best to word this carefully I'm starting to recall exactly how we got to the stage we're at right now. How do I explain this without telling him too much? Or sound like a complete ass for that matter.

Warrick just waits patiently. I shrug. "It just changed that one night. I think it was a case that got to her, she was so upset..." I remember holding her close to me. Promising myself to never hurt her.

And suddenly I find myself talking, telling him everything. From how I wanted to become Sara's friend, the misunderstandings, fuck-ups, the ups and numerous downs. About that date that wasn't a date and how it made things even more complicated.

I tell him about Sara's feelings, I don't even leave that stupid one-night-stand out. Or my shameful drunken escapade – and how Sara didn't even hesitate to help.

Realization is dawning on his face as I ramble on about my fucked up relationship with our colleague.

When I'm done he just stares at me blankly.

"Say something," I challenge him, "tell me I'm not a terrible person for brushing her off all the time, she's as much at fault as I am."

"You love her, don't you?" What? Did he even listen to me?

"No, dammit. That's the fucking problem!" I all but shout. He can't be serious.

"No, Cath. The problem is you do, you just don't allow yourself those feelings." I shake my head in disbelief. What is he thinking?

"You think you know how I feel, huh? You think that _I_ don't know myself better? I've been in love, Warrick, and believe me, now I am _not_." I stare at him, almost daring him to contradict to my words.

"You're attracted to her, right?" His voice is calm in spite of my rudeness. It's something I've always treasured about his friendship, I can yell, vent and bitch at him and he will just lean back and let me.

"Yes, I thought we had that covered." My sarcasm is softened by the tuned volume of my voice.

He nods.

"You care about her."

"As a friend, yes." Where is he going with this?

"It upsets you that she won't talk to you."

"Yes, dammit. It annoys me. _She _annoys me. Every fucking thing she does annoys me." I'm tired of Warrick trying to make me see something that isn't there. Why doesn't he get that I'm just majorly pissed at Sara?

"Tell me, when was the last time that _anyone _triggered that strong of a reaction in you?" I swallow as I see what he implies.

Slowly I exhale, not sure if I'm ready to go down that road with him now.

"Eddie." I whisper, then quickly compose myself. Sara isn't Eddie. Sara isn't anyone but an ex, someone I slept with.

Warrick seems content with my answer though.

"You're attracted to her, you _care _about her, you are obviously concerned about her feelings, and she's getting under your skin like nobody else does." His eyes bore straight into mine, "You can fool yourself all you want, Cath. But don't try to fool me. It might not be love, but there's definitely _something_. You should sort that out. For yourself and for her."

I nod mutely as his words sink in. A huge part of me is laughing at the surreality of what he just told me, but a tiny part in me realizes that maybe he is right – to a certain extent.


	42. Chapter 42

Sara 

"Sara, we need to talk." She comes barging into the the lab without a knock whatsoever. And without explanation at that, as if she hasn't just left me waiting for a good hour for her return -not that I'd been waiting.

"Now?" She demands and I swallow a laugh. Seriously, who does this woman think she is?

"I wouldn't know what I'd have to talk to you about." I inform her, knowing full well that she is by no means referring to anything work-related. In that case she would've just said so.

But she hasn't said anything. And I'm not going to budge.

She takes a step closer to me, looking more than just a little pissed and I feel myself perversely enjoying her anger. Whatever the fuck is wrong with her, I'm fed up with those games, I'm not a participant for that anymore, I will never again play a part in any of her games.

However she doesn't let off. Her wannabe death-glares are getting old, really. I sigh, what can it hurt to let her speak her mind, might even get me some clues as to what makes her tick.

"Fine," I say, leaning back against the evidence table with my arms crossed over my chest, "talk then."

"I'd rather not do it here," She declares. I'm not sure whether she doesn't notice or just plain doesn't care that she is starting to really piss me off. Knowing her it might just as well be purpose.

"Here is all you get." I tell her sharply. "Say what you have to say now or keep it to yourself."

"Fine." She huffs, taking another couple of steps closer.

"We need to figure this out."

I almost laugh at that. Figure what out exactly? _This _as in _us_? Because that is something un-figurable. I would know, I've tried it for months after all.

I remain quiet though, waiting for her to continue because I hardly think that's all she was going to say on the matter.

"I want to take you out." I look up sharply at that. Is she serious? An hour ago she was accusing me of ignoring her and now she's asking me out? This has got to be the worst joke ever.

My mind is screaming _what the fuck _but I'm much too shocked to speak. She surely cannot have just said that.

When it's clear that I'm not going to answer she finally starts talking again.

"We can't keep up with this attitude. We need to talk. For real. I want us to go out, see if it could work."

I shake my head in order to overcome the shock. It takes several seconds until I'm able to form a response.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I spit at her, unable to contain my anger, "You've made it more that clear that you didn't want to take this further. It's something I can accept. I would have liked for us to be friends, you didn't seem interested in that either and that's okay. But why the hell do you change your mind now all of a sudden? Do you think this is funny? Beat me when I'm down? If that is so you're even lower that I thought."

Taking a deep breath once my rant is finished I wait her reaction. She looks stunned actually. I guess she didn't expect this. Probably thought I'd give in to her again. After all I'm just the stupid little puppy with that incurable crush on her. Well, I am not.

"I never meant to hurt you." Her voice almost sounds sincere when she says that. I would have expected yelling, a defense or anything else along those lines. Not in a hundred years would I have believed in something so close to an apology from her.

I sigh. This is not good at all.

"You did." There's no sense in denying that, and quite frankly I want her to know.

My arms are still protectively folded across my chest as I stare at her, needing to convey what I'm going to tell her.

"Whatever games you want to play, do it elsewhere. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you. Just leave it."

I'm surprised at the hurt I see in her eyes, it almost looks genuine. Well, actually it _does _look genuine.

Good. Because so does mine.

"I'm sorry, Sara," She tries again. This woman got some nerve. Shaking my head I evade the hand she's reaching towards me.

"Just leave it, Catherine. Please." I try my best to remain strong. I can already feel my resolve crumble, suddenly I'm overcome by the need to run. If she keeps looking at me like that I might give in and I cannot let that happen again.

I don't think I would survive another round of this.


	43. Chapter 43

Catherine

She looks crushed, her eyes reflect hurt, still her posture clearly spells defense.

Thank you very much, Mr. Brown. Why the hell did I even listen to you? Now, look where that got me.

I'm tempted to apologize again but I think that would be in vain. I told her I am sorry, now it's up to Sara. If I keep pressuring her she will just thicken those damn walls around her. I think it's best to leave her alone and give her time to think.

Although, what would that change? She seems to have made up her mind.

My pageer cuts through the silence, alerting me that Hodges found something on the fibers I brought him.

"That's trace." I mutter by way of explanation, already walking out of the lab.

I let our conversation replay in my mind. She can be so damn stubborn sometimes. No, scratch that, she's stubborn all of the time. Here I'm making an effort to solve things between us and she accuses me of playing games with her. As if we were in friggin' High School. That woman sure is paranoid.

I sigh when I realize I almost walked right past the trace lab being so lost in thought. This has to stop, I need to focus back on work.

As suspected, Hodges confirms the match on the fibers. This is great, now all that's left to do for me is call up Brass to have him find that guy and haul him in for a confession. And of course the paperwork.

I groan at the thought of that. At least I'll be able to do it by myself and on the next case I'll have Grissom assign Sara to someone else. That way I will hopefully get a break from constantly having to deal with Ms Attitude. I'll just go and tell her the good news.

Making my way back I bump into none other than Warrick who eyes me with a raised brow when I throw him a death glare.

"Something wrong?" He asks seemingly oblivious to what his little _talk _earlier has gotten me into.

"Yes." I growl before pulling him into an empty layout room by his sleeve.

"And that's your fault. Why the hell did you have to put those ideas in my head?"

I realize while the words leave my mouth that I'm being irrational and that nobody but me is responsible for my actions but right now I need to let off some steam.

"Cath, would you tell me what's going on?"

How can he be so calm? It's beyond frustrating that I can't seem to fight with this man, he never even falters or raises his voice to me.

"You told me to try again with her, I asked her out and she told me to leave her alone."

"Well, what did you expect her to do? Fall into your arms as if nothing ever happened?"

I huff in disbelief. Who's side is he standing on?

"She could at least have given me a chance to fix this. All I've been asking for was a talk. She didn't even let me apologize to her!"

"Yeah, I bet you were all sweet and understanding with her."

I can't believe this. Did he really just say that? How come that everybody seems to think I'm the royal bitch around here?

I do have feelings too.

Not knowing what to say I merely shake my head and turn to the door. Some great friends I have.

"Catherine," Warrick's hand pulls on my arm, keeping me from leaving.

"I didn't mean it like that," he tells me with nothing but honesty in his eyes, "I know you're not out to intentionally hurt anyone but you tend to talk and act before you think sometimes. You make up your mind and you don't think twice about the consequences."

He looks at me intently. I don't know what to say to him, I might not like what I hear but he's is right. I did barge in there without second thought, and I didn't really consider how Sara might be feeling. I just expected her to accept my words.

"Give her some time." Warrick suggests and it's all I can do to nod. He pats my shoulder once more before he leaves the room.

I take a deep breath, needing to calm down and straighten my thoughts.

He is right, to a certain extend. I will have to give Sara some space for now, even though I doubt it will change anything. After all, space is what I've been giving her the past couple of weeks, but I'm determined not to give in.

Even if it takes more time and effort, she will hear me out. She won't just get rid of me like this. I'm going to give it another try, no matter what.

Watch out Sidle, I'm pulling out the big guns if I have to.


	44. Chapter 44

AN: Apologies, still hate this story...can't help it. Short's better than nothing though, right?

* * *

Sara

Why is she doing this? Playing with my feelings like they didn't exist.

She's pushed me away so many times, she told me to the face that she will never feel anything beyond attraction for me and now she has the impudence of asking me out. Like it wasn't hard enough for me to get over her – and she has to know that.

But that is Catherine, everybody. Selfishly chasing after the things she wants and toying around until she tires of them. I wonder what made her turn back to a dropped toy now all of a sudden. Well, maybe she's not done with me yet.

So much for "let's be friends". But not with me, Willows. This time, if somebody gets hurt it'll be you. Not that I could ever hurt this woman. God, I'm so pathetic.

I need to calm down before I'm doing something stupid.

Great, now she comes back into the room with a smile on her face. As if she didn't just mess with my mind, as if I didn't just tell her to fuck off.

"Fibers were a match, I guess that means the blood will come back the victim's too. You took it to analysis didn't you?"  
"Dropped it off with DNA a good hour ago." I inform her.

"Great. We'll just wait for the results then. I'll call Brass."

She's all business, like nothing happened at all between us. It's an act she plays all too well. In all honesty, that ability is something I envy her for. I wish I could just put on a mask and be indifferent.

But I am not. I have feelings, I am hurt. I can mask it behind anger, I can lash out or ignore her but inside, inside it's still nagging at my heart.

I've tried so many times to be civil with her but every now and then I just snap. It's not healthy and I know that I promised myself to get over her, it almost worked. Until she invaded my dreams again, invaded my every thought. I'm so damn hopeless, it's tragic.

"They're working on it." Catherine informs me as she snaps her phone shut and I nod.

She looks at me as if there's something else she wants to get off her chest and I meet her stare with a raised brow. Her mouth closes, lips tight, as she forces a half smile and takes a step back.

"I'll be in my office," She tells me and then she's gone again.

It occurs to me that she left me with all the evidence left to put away and I didn't even protest. I wonder how it's possible to love and hate a person that much at the same time. She can piss me off to no ends but I always end up letting her get away with it.

With a big sigh I start storing away the evidence, my mind never straying to far from it's favorite subject. Why does she have to be so damn irresistible? Why can't she just be like any other crush I've had, forgettable?

Most of all, why does she have to be such a bitch about it? Pushing me away again and again until I'm ready to move on and then ask me out! I still can't wrap my head around that. What is she trying to achieve?

I'm not her personal entertainer for crying out loud. I wish she would just leave me alone.


End file.
